


thick skin and an elastic heart (walked through fire to save my life)

by aletterinthenameofsanity



Series: my past has tasted bitter for years now (i'll be a better man today) [1]
Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Asexual Character, Asexual Homoromantic Spencer Reid, Biromantic Homosexual Maeve Donovan, Bisexual Character of Color, Bisexual Derek Morgan, Bisexual Emily Prentiss, Bisexual Ethan, Bisexual Savannah Hayes, Canonical Character Death, Drug Addiction, Episode: s02e15 Revelations, Established Relationship, Even if I have to write 80000+ words of this fic, F/F, F/M, Flashbacks, Gunshot Wounds, Hostage Situations, Hurt/Comfort, I have an outline, I will get my asexual rep dammit, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, It may just take three years to get done, Lesbian Ashley Seaver, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Past Child Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Romance, Spencer Reid has abandonment issues, Spencer and Derek and pretty much everyone in this cast has PTSD, Stalking, Strap in for the long run, This fic will be finished eventually, Weddings, but on the bright side, character development bitch, that he constantly denies to himself, this job is not for the faint of heart
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-10
Updated: 2018-11-04
Packaged: 2018-11-12 04:26:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 11
Words: 28,801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11154213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aletterinthenameofsanity/pseuds/aletterinthenameofsanity
Summary: Spencer and Derek have one of the most insane jobs in the world: profilers in the FBI's Behavioral Analysis Unit. They battle serial killers, kidnappers, rapists, and all manner of horrifying people. They battle external and internal demons, and find themselves trying not to go insane with the horror.It only makes sense that they find themselves falling in love and leaning on each other in the process, right?





	1. Prologue: One Week Ago

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from "Elastic Heart" by Sia.
> 
> Featuring four queer BAU members: Asexual/Homoromantic Spencer Reid, Bisexual Derek Morgan, Bisexual Emily Prentiss, and Lesbian Ashley Seaver. Hope you like!

_“God, Spence,” Derek whispers, and the last of Spencer’s nerves snaps. He begins to sob, ugly tears pouring off of his grimy cheeks and onto Derek’s shoulder, and Derek just holds him. “I’m so sorry.”_

_Spencer is finally safe, his adrenaline is gone, his nerves are shot. He wants nothing more than to sink into Derek’s embrace, to welcome dark oblivion and never resurface._

_Then he feels it- the pull, the inevitable tug of the drugs Tobias pumped into him. It slams into him like a freight train, crashing into him and pulling him along until its destination hits. All Spencer can think of is getting more of that drug, getting more of that high. His mouth goes dry and he detaches himself from Derek, a half-baked excuse forming in his mind._

_“Can I have a moment alone?” Spencer asks, and Derek’s face crumples._

_“Of course,” he says, despite the obvious turmoil on his face, “Take as long as you need, sweetheart. I’ll just stand over there-” and he gestures to a tree about twelve feet away._

_Spencer nods gratefully before half-stumbling his way back to the body. He crouches down, knees threatening to fail, and slips the Dilaudid out of Tobias’ pocket and into his own. He closes Tobias’ eyes and stands. He glances up to find Derek staring at him- but at his face, his shoulders, not his hands, so Derek didn’t catch him in the act._

_Spencer stands, the word “Derek” leaving his lips in a quiet breath, and a moment later his boyfriend’s at his side. Derek slings an arm around Spencer’s shoulders and Spencer can’t help but be thankful for the support._

_“I’ve got you,” Derek says, “Don’t worry.”_

_Spencer’s brain, for the first time in his life, is completely exhausted. He doesn’t have the capacity for worry- lack of adrenaline, a drugged haze, widespread pain, and physical fatigue are combining to create a powerful suppression of thought._

_“Thank you,” he manages to get out._

_“That’s not needed,” Derek says, and Spencer catches a firmness to his voice. “I’ll always be here for you, I promise. No need to ask, to say please or thank you.”_

_“Okay,” Spencer says, voice collapsing from the dehydration his body suddenly registers. It’s like his senses are only working at half speed. Every minute or so, as his adrenaline bottoms out, he recognizes a new problem. Dehydration, malnutrition, drug addiction- and there goes his feet, shoeless and ripped to shreds by Hankel’s belt. He stumbles, nearly falling to his knees, but Derek catches him as he lets out a cry of pain. Derek lifts him up into his arms and Spencer doesn’t protest the indignity. Pain is settling into his bones, the rope burn around his legs and ribs chafing as the host of things that Hankel put him through suddenly make their presence known._

_“Hotch!” Derek shouts, panic leaking into his tone, “We’ve gotta get Spencer to an EMT!"_

_Spencer hears a rumble and closes his eyes. It’s a lot nicer in the dark, the echo of Derek’s voice from a few days ago held tight in his mind like a precious gem. Now-Derek fades away, leaving behind only oblivion._

But he can't let them find the Dilaudid.

 _It's a struggle, but he manages to force his eyes open. He won't let them take him to a hospital. He'll let the EMT treat him, but he won't go to the hospital. He_ can't  _let them-_

_"You're going to be safe, pretty boy," Derek promises, voice a harsh whisper, and Spencer, despite the pain, the exhaustion, and worry about the drugs, believes him._


	2. Fear and Loathing (2.16/1.10)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This story's a whopper. This is only the first chapter, and this story runs until the end of season 9. It was originally only supposed to cover until the New Orleans episode of season 2, but stuff happened and this monster came out. It's over 50000 words at the moment and I still have a lot to cover. Please enjoy and comment!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spencer Reid is a rather unreliable narrator as he has a warped view of relationships and how they should work. This will be discussed throughout this story, but for now just be a bit wary.

_"Unfortunately, a super abundance of dreams is paid for by a growing potential for nightmares."_

-Sir Peter Ustinov

 

“Hey, JJ,” A familiar voice says, and JJ jumps up from her desk to find Spencer standing behind her, Derek at his side.

"Spencer, you're back!" she exclaims, standing up. 

 

“I’ve been cleared for duty,” Spencer says, and he’s clearly a bit skittish (evidence: slight shake to his fingers, flitting gaze, tight grip on his satchel strap), but he’s smiling so that’s a good sign.

JJ grins and flings her arms around Spencer’s shoulders. She can feel the tension in them, but after a moment he relaxes slightly and she breathes a sigh of relief.

“I’m here, too,” Derek says, clearly a bit miffed, and Emily responds.

“You’re not the best friend, Morgan,” she says, smirk clear in her tone.

“Well, I’m still not chopped liver,” Derek says as JJ steps back, releasing Spencer from her death grip.

“Nah, not chopped liver, Morgan,” JJ says, “Just liver.”

Morgan rolls his eyes and Spencer says quietly: “Liver’s actually quite healthy. It contains a large amount of high-quality protein, an easily absorbed form of iron, all of the B vitamins (including B12 and folic acid in significant amounts), balanced quantities of vitamin A, many trace elements and minerals including copper, zinc, chromium, phosphorous and selenium, essential fatty acids EPA, DHA, and-”

“It’s good to see you back, guys,” Hotch says, a rare smile on his face. “And good to see, Reid, that you’re back at full form.” Spencer gives him a shaky smile. “But we can talk more after the briefing for the case. Into the briefing room.”

Spencer and Derek follow Emily and JJ into the briefing room, and JJ notices that Spencer slips his hand back into Derek's. Something inside her chest hurts at the sight- Spencer, who's so strong, having to seek comfort in their safest place of work.

-

_“Actually, there aren't that many scientific errors in Star Trek, especially considering how long ago it was made. There are certain improbabilities, but not that many outright errors…” Spencer trails off, finally noticing Derek staring strangely at him. “Um, Derek?” He asks, “Why are you staring at me?”_

_The last thing Spencer expects pops out of Derek’s mouth: “That’s adorable.”_

_Spencer blinks. “What?”_

_For the first time since Spencer can remember, Derek seems frozen in the headlights. He doesn't seem to know what to say, and that sort of problem is not one that Spencer has ever seen Derek encounter before._

_“Hotch wants everyone up in the round table room,” Elle says, walking in. She pauses, looking at them. “Something up with you two?”_

_Spencer stares at Derek for a long moment before saying, “No, nothing.” At least, he thinks it’s nothing._

-

Spencer knows that one of the most common, if not _the_ most common, causes of relationship collapse is failure to communicate. He’s read every study on the books regarding romance (entering into a relationship certainly provoked his interest in the subject) and he knows that what he’s doing  is probably the number one taboo of a healthy relationship.

So as he stares at the mirror, shadows under his eyes clear, he can’t help but feel a great strain in his heart. The drugs in his bag feel as heavy as Sisyphus’ boulder, as oppressive as Atlas’ sky. He know he needs to tell Derek, but the fear of Derek shaming him or breaking up with him because of it stops him whenever he tries to summon the will to speak.

(This isn’t healthy, he knows, but he can’t stop. Not when the drugs keep the nightmares at bay, if only a little bit.)

-

His hands tremble as he explains the MO to the officers. Normally this would be where he’s most comfortable, most confident, but right now he can’t be. He can't feel safe, no matter how hard he tries. Even being surrounded by his teammates- especially his boyfriend- isn't as comforting as it should be.

Derek catches his hand as they head out. “You okay, pretty boy?”

Spencer doesn’t want to be weak, but more importantly he doesn’t want Derek to worry. Spencer’s case has been solved. Tobias Hankel is in the ground where he can't hurt anyone else, while Sandra Davis’ killer is still on the loose. He can’t be a distraction, and besides, his flashbacks are just a remnant left over.

_(But the drug use is not_ , a persistent voice in the back of his mind says.)

“Yeah,” he says, summoning up the stamina for a smile. “I’m fine.”

“Good,” Derek says, then leans in and presses a quick kiss to Spencer’s cheek before heading off to the car.

Spencer bites his lip, holding back a bitter laugh as Derek walks off. This is Spencer’s first major relationship, his first long-term anything, and he’s going to destroy it as soon as Derek finds out.

No, he _can’t_ fuck this up right out of the gate.

He takes a deep breath, trying to calm down. “Destroy”- that’s a bit melodramatic. He’ll tell Derek, some time. Just not now. It’s not urgent. The case- the girls dying- is what’s important.

He just has to make it through this case. Then he’ll tell.

-

_“Morgan, I think-” Spencer's voice says, and Morgan freezes as he appears down the hillside._

_“Reid, stop!” He shouts, yanking out his gun, but before he can get it all the way out the kid has Spencer in a chokehold, a gun to his neck._

_“This got all messed up,” Corey says, voice breaking, and Derek's got to get Spencer out of this._

_“Don't be stupid-”_

_“She wasn't supposed to be with him. It was his run. He runs it every day, not her!”_

_“Corey, listen to me,” Derek instructs, trying to stay calm, but there's a gun jabbing Spencer's neck and he can't keep as calm as usual. “We can fix this. But you've got to let Reid go.”_

_“I never meant to hurt her,” the kid says, “But make no mistake- I will shoot your boy right here, right now.”_

_“No,” Derek says, bluffing, “you won't.”_

_“Tempt not a desperate man,” the kid says, “Put the gun down!”_

_Derek hears the menacing_ click _of the safety disengaging- he knows what he's got to do.“Okay, all right,” he says, holding up his hands, “You win.”_

_“Drop it,” the kid demands, “Drop the gun!”_

_“Okay, okay,” Derek says, slowly crouching down, “You win. I'm putting the gun down.” He lets the gun fall from his hand. “You're in control, Corey,” he says, trying to bluff the kid into letting go of Spencer. “Let him go.”_

_“For the evil is man's best force,” Spencer pipes up. “Man must become better and eviler."_

_"What?" The kid mutters._

_"That's what this is about, right? Zarathustra? The Superman? There's no moral obligation for killing someone if you're superior to them? But Nietzsche was speaking metaphorically about evolving as a species.”_

_“You're just a horny kid who wanted to get rid of the cheerleader's boyfriend,” Derek says, seeing Spencer's plan to egg Corey on, and it works. The kid shouts, Spencer wrestles out of his hold, and Derek slams him to the ground, knocking him down with a punch as Spencer rolls away._

_He turns to look at Spencer, holding a hand to Corey's chest all the while. “You okay, kid?”_

_“Yeah, but-”_

_Derek tries to explain how he tried to get Spencer away when he confronted the kid. “Him bringing us down here was way too much of a coincidence-”_

_“I got that,” Spencer says, “But did you have to tackle us both?”_

_Derek grins. They're gonna be fine._

_“You're welcome, Reid.”_

_Spencer rolls his eyes._

_"C'mon," Derek says, lifting the kid, "_ _Let's go, Corey."_

_-_

“He was shot,” Derek says when he gets in the car, Spencer can’t tell if it’s grief or anger in his tone. “He got shot because he was black, and people are paranoid, and-” His voice raises steadily. “And _dammit_!” His fists jerk, making an aborted motion to whack the steering wheel, but he stops himself. “He had a family, Spencer!” His voice is breaking. “And because of subconscious prejudice, they’re without a father, a husband, a brother!”

Spencer swallows, trying to blink back flashbacks and _confess your sins_ and the smell of burning animal livers.

“Accidental shootings of African Americans are 2.5 times more likely to occur, per representation in the population, than whites-"

“I don’t care, Spence!” Derek shouts. (Okay, not quite shouting (by a technical definition, anyway), but for a man who doesn’t normally raise his voice around Spencer, this is pretty close to shouting.) “A man _died_ because of stupidity and unfounded bias. He should have died with meaning, not like some common criminal!” This time his fists actually do make contact with the steering wheel, a small  _thump_ that echoes strangely through the car.

Spencer can’t hold back his flinch this time. He knows Derek would never harm him, would never even _think_ of laying a hand on him in anger, but Rafael and Charles _did_ and he can’t make himself forget.

Derek’s tone switches from angry to concerned. “Spence, you okay?” Derek asks, reaching out his right hand from the steering wheel to rest it besides Spencer’s.

Spencer needs to calm himself down, to center his mind on the case and on the girls. He quickly measures his breathing, establishing a pattern. _Breathe in, breathe out. Uno, in, dos, out, tres, in, quatro, out._ He rolls over the soothing syllables of another language inside his head.

_I’ve got this._

“I’m fine.”

Derek’s hand moves to entwine his fingers with Spencer’s. “You can tell me anything. You know that, right?”

Spencer doesn’t hesitate. “Of course,” he says, voice firm.

Derek smiles. “‘Cause I really do care about you, pretty boy.”

Spencer grins. “There’d be something seriously wrong with this relationship if you didn’t.”

Derek laughs but doesn’t withdraw his hand, for which Spencer is immeasurably grateful.

“God, Spence, you’re ridiculous.”

"Actually, “ridiculous” means 'deserving or inviting derision or mockery; absurd,' so I'm not sure if that's quite the definition you're going for..." He trails off as he realizes what he’s been doing. “Sorry, didn’t mean to correct you.”

Derek speaks fondly. “I don’t mind, Spence. And ‘sides, it’s part of your charm.”

Spencer’s honestly puzzled. “My charm?”

“You just don’t realize how attractive you are, do you?” Derek says, and boy has this conversation taken a turn.

“You’ve very clearly informed me on the subject,” Spencer says, though he’s never quite believed Derek’s words.

“Then you should _really_ know by now,” Derek says, and leans in to kiss Spencer's cheek.

Spencer smiles. “Thank you.”

“No problem,” Derek says.

-

_They're on the plane afterwards- everyone else is asleep. Spencer and Derek are sitting across a table from each other, and there's a tension in the air that's not normally there._

_“Um, Reid,” Derek speaks up, and Spencer instantly picks up on the fact that he’s nervous. Spencer's not quite sure why until- “I’m sorry if I made this awkward. We can just forget about that comment I made a few days ago-”_

_“No,” Spencer says, “No need for that.” He can feel himself, embarrassingly, blushing like a schoolgirl. “I actually enjoyed the compliment. Don’t get too many of them.”_

_“Damn shame.” Derek mutters, and if Spencer’s cheeks were warm before they’re as hot as Dante’s first circle of hell now. “Reid, man, you’re pretty great. You deserve as many people complimenting you as possible-”_

_Strange- this sounds uncannily close to Derek’s flirting style. “You mean that as a platonic friend, right?”_

_Derek chuckles self-deprecatingly. “First time my flirting’s been misconstrued like that.” He reaches up and scratches the back of his neck nervously. “You must really not be interested then.” Spencer blinks, stunned. “Once again, sorry. This just made things really awkward, didn’t it?”_

_“Um, no,” Spencer’s startled into admitting. “I actually, um, like you that way?” Spencer feels like a teenager again, clumsily admitting his feelings to the boy he had a crush on. It had gone horribly wrong back then, ending with the jocks stringing Spencer up a flagpole in nothing but his underwear. He’d never tried to admit that sort of thing again, burying himself in the books that were plenty interesting on their own. Who needed boys, anyway?_

_Derek looked shocked. “Really? I thought this was a long shot. You’ve never shown any signs-”_

_Spencer bites his lip nervously. “Have you ever heard of a thing called asexuality?"_

_Derek raises an eyebrow at the seemingly random question. “Of course I have. It’s when someone has no sexual feelings or desires- oh.” He stops and stares at Spencer, who nods._

_“Yeah. I fall into a category that’s labeled as asexual homoromantic. That means-”_

_“You like boys, but have no sexual interest in them,” Derek finishes._

_Spencer nods, sensing his chance at his second crush (and best friend) slipping away. A bit disappointing, considering that he actually had some sort of reciprocation of failings this time. Oh, well- at least he’ll have work to concentrate on this time. “I know that you were most likely expecting something else, and I’m sorry to leave you disappointed-”_

_“I don’t care, pretty boy,” Derek says, and it seems like he’s as surprised as Spencer is to hear himself say it. “I mean, I’m as sexually active as the next guy, but if that’s not what you want, then that’s not what’s gonna happen. I’m not into you just because of the possibility of sex, Reid.”_

_Spencer rises an eyebrow, ignoring the rise of warm feelings inside of him. “Why are you interested in me?”_

_Derek laughs. “Why_ wouldn’t I _be?” I mean, look at you-” he gestures to Spencer, “-You’ve got brains, kindness, humor, beauty-” He winks at Spencer, “-So why wouldn’t I be interested?”_

_Spencer worries his bottom lip. “Because no one else had ever been?” The words come out quicker than intended, and Derek leans forward in his seat._

_“That can’t possibly be true,” Derek says. The matter-of-fact tone is kind of reassuring, and honestly, sort of confidence-building._

_“As true as Einstein’s theory of relativity.”_

_“Well, then, everyone you’ve met has been wrong.” Spencer fumbles for words, unsure what to say. Thankfully, though, Derek fills the void by saying, tone Spencer’s classified as his ‘flirting’ voice, “So, you like me?”_

_Spencer’s blush returns full-force and he curses whatever force is keeping his words from working when faced with Derek’s affection. “Yeah,” he ends up settling for, and Derek smiles._

_“What exactly does that mean, then?” Derek asks, and the teasing in his voice is gone. Instead there just remains genuine curiosity. “I mean, to want romance without a sexual component.”_

_“It means I want to kiss you,” Spencer says, and leans the slightest bit forward at the suggestion. Derek’s eyes drop to his lips and Spencer can’t help but feel a rush of anticipation. “I want to feel your lips against mine, want to-”_

_Derek leans forward and closes the distance. It’s a surprisingly chaste kiss (at least by the standards Spencer has witnessed Derek establish with various partners in the past), but every one of Spencer’s nerve endings stands on end. He suddenly knows why people are always kissing their partners, why everyone rhapsodizes about their first kiss like it’s some kind of magic._

_Then Derek separates, leaning back, and Spencer thinks:_ God, I hope I wasn’t tragic at this.

_Derek grins. “Quite nice, pretty boy,” He says, “But I think we could do even better if we tried again.”_

_Spencer blushes, but he leans across the table again_.

-

“You good?” Spencer asks.

“Just thinking,” Derek says. “We know what it's like to grow up without a father.”

"Their father died a hero,” Spencer says, trying to reassure Derek.

“Mine did too. Doesn't make it any easier.

Spencer feels a bit dizzy, so he leans his head on Derek's shoulder. It's kind of nice, actually, to be able to be a bit vulnerable like this with another person, especially someone he feels like this toward.

(And someone who, for the first time, feels the same way back.)

A moment later Spencer feels Derek's arm around his shoulders and a kiss being pressed to his hair.

"You know," Spencer says, "The circumstances of a father leaving rarely changes the fact that he's gone."

"No," Derek muses, "They rarely do."

-

"Spence, listen to me. What you went through out there, nobody expects you to rebound quickly, _especially_ me.”

“I can still do my job,” Spencer says with a sigh, still not looking Derek in the eye. "I'm not gonna freak out."

"I know that, pretty boy. You're strong. So strong."

Spencer swallows. "It's the crime scene photos," he supplies.

"Crime scene photos?" Derek asks.

"The dead girls in the leaves."

“We've seen worse,” Derek says, tone even.

“I know,” Spencer says, and swallows. “I know we've seen worse, but first time I know. I know what they were thinking and I know what they were feeling and it’s messing me up, Derek. I can’t focus, can’t work properly-

"That's called empathy, and it's a good thing," Derek says, and places his hand on the table, palm up, in a gesture of offerance. Offering comfort.

"It's not. It's got me all messed up. I don't know how to focus. I can't do my job as well. So, what do I do?"

"You use it. Let it make you a better profiler, a better person."

"A better person?" Spencer asks, voice fragile.

Derek nods. "You're already a pretty amazing person, Spencer. Using the pain to make you even better- that's I try to do."

There- he’s talking to Derek. He trusts Derek.  
Derek smiles. “Now, c’mere, pretty boy,” he says, and gestures for Spencer to come sit in the seat by him.

Spencer can’t resist a slight smile as he gets up and moves seats, sliding into the seat next to Derek.

Derek slides an arm around his shoulder. “Can’t wait to get back home,” Derek says, changing the subject, but Spencer’s thankful for it.

"Botticelli’s?" Spencer asks, referencing their favorite date restaurant.

Derek grins. "You've got it, pretty boy."

-

_Elle, the only one still awake, smiles from her seat across the plane. It's nice to see them finally get over their tension, especially if it means Spencer opening up to someone like that._


	3. Jones (2.18)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I have no excuse for it taking this long to update this chapter, other than that I lost inspiration for this particular chapter and since I was dedicated to updating this fic in chronological order, I couldn't post another chapter until this one is done. Well, here it is. Not the best, but since I love the rest of this 'verse I had to get the direct aftermath of Hankel out of the way before diving into the rest of the seasons. There will be one more in this direct sub-arc, and I hope y'all continue with this into the next six seasons of Moreid.

" _Tragedy is a tool for the living to gain wisdom. Not a guide by which to live."_

_-Robert Kennedy_

 

It's been three weeks, six days, and four hours since Spencer Reid shot Tobias Hankel. He and the rest of the team are in New Orleans to catch a killer, and his drug addiction hasn't gotten any better.

(His decision to visit Ethan probably isn't any saner than that to take Dilaudid.)

As Ethan picks up his drink from the bar, Spencer's phone rings. He pulls it out of his pocket and sees that it's Emily. He swallows and tucks the phone back in his pocket. Derek would call if it was an emergency.

“So are you gonna ask the question?”

“What question?” Spencer asks.

“Come on, man. It's me here. We haven't talked to each other in years. I know it's why you called me. Ask the question.”

“Why did you quit after only one day of FBI training?"

Ethan fixes him with an unimpressed look. "Well I'm sure you've considered the evidence, analyzed the signs.”

“You were battling your own demons.” Spencer says, and doesn't he know the feeling. “You didn't have time to analyze someone else's.”

“Not bad,” Ethan says, grin languid. “Not bad. These days, I did prefer Jack Daniel's to Jeff Dahmer."

"They both weigh on your soul eventually," Spencer says, and his phone virbrates again.

"Sorry," he says as he puts the phone on silent.

"The bat phone," Ethan mutters with a small scoff, and Spencer ignores his oldest's friends joke. Instead, Spencer turns back to Ethan. Hoping to talk about lighter topics (he needs the distraction almost as he needs the drugs), he asks, "Dating anyone?"

Ethan shrugs, moving with that languid grace he's always had. "Off and on, a few girls, a few guys. Same as always. You finally meet a guy?"

Spencer nods. "Maybe I'll introduce you to him sometime."

Ethan raises an incredulous eyebrow as he leads Spencer over to a couple of seats facing each other. "Unless he's in New Orleans-"

"A member of the team."

"He know about your-?" Ethan holds up a hand and it shakes in a distorted pantomime of a junkie.

(Like _his_ hand, Spencer thinks.)

Spencer sits down on the edge of the seat, trying to keep his hand  from trembling on the glass in his hand. “What are you trying to say?”

“You look like hell,” Ethan says.

Spencer shrugs. “I'm fine.”

Ethan snorts. “Come on, man. I'm a jazz musician in New Orleans. I know what it looks like when someone's not well.” He leans forward, toward Spencer. “This may be the one time I can tell you something that you don't already know.” He points to the glass in Spencer's swaying hand. “That might help you forget, but it won't make it go away. And if I can tell?” He clucks his tongue. “You're surrounded by some of the best minds in the world, including your new boyfriend. And if you think they don't notice… well for a genius, that's just dumb.”

Spencer swallows and takes a sip of his drink, unable to ignore the shake in his hand now that Ethan has pointed it out.

“I think they have some idea,” he says, and his phone chimes again. Spencer pulls his phone out of his pocket just enough so that he can glance down and check it. Derek's name pops up.

_DEREK MORGAN_

**Where u at, pretty boy?**

Spencer swallows and tucks his phone back into his pocket. He'll deal with the guilt later.

-

Spencer picks up his phone as he gets in a taxi to go back to the hotel (he hasn't trusted his instincts while driving for awhile now, whether because of his trembling as a result of the drugs or because of the risk of flashback as a result of Hankel).

_“Pretty boy, I'm concerned. I know you went off to talk to Ethan but you didn't pick up the phone when Prentiss called. That's not like you. Please call me back, Spence. I'm worried about you.”_

-

Spencer and Derek get paired off together when it comes to staking out the party. They ride in a van with JJ and Will to the site, thus postponing what Spencer sees as an inevitable interrogation by his boyfriend.

Every time Derek's fingers graze Spencer's  arm, he swallows. As much as he loves Derek, right now his touch is just a reminder of everything he's hiding. 

Derek holds off on asking anything until they’re set up by the bar. By this point, Spencer’s nerves are drawn as tight as a violin bowstring, so it’s nearly a relief when Derek finally speaks.

“Why’d you miss the flight?” Derek asks, a slight edge to his voice that’s never before been present when talking to his boyfriend.

Spencer won’t look Derek in the eye as he replies, “No cell reception, just like I said.”

Derek’s voice has lost its edge as he says, “I know when you’re lying, pretty boy. You tics are obvious, starting with the fact that you won’t look me in the eye, and your voice is uncertain in a way where it wavers without sounding like you're asking a question. You're not nervous about our relationship, you're obviously lying about something."

Spencer is startled enough to release a laugh. “Profiling the profiler, Derek?” He turns and gives his boyfriend a small smile. “I’d expect nothing less.”

Derek smiles back fondly, but he still says, “Can’t distract me, Spence. I need a better excuse than that.” Spencer’s smile falls flat. “You want to tell me, I’m here.” He places a hand on Spencer’s shoulder and gives it a brief, reassuring squeeze. “I’m always here for you.”

Spencer swallows, for a moment feeling the weight of all his sins ( _confess_ , Charles shouts, _confess your sins)_ pressing down on him. Derek has been nothing but open with him, trusting him with everything, even Carl Buford. And what has Spencer given him in return?

He can share something, at least. Nothing big, nothing that can distract from the case, but something.

“I-” he starts, but he’s interrupted by the sight of a likely suspect. He jerks his head towards her. “Girl in red, 3 o’ clock.”

Derek instantly shifts into mission mode. “Got it.”

\---

After the case, JJ goes off to speak to her detective, leaving Spencer, Emily, and Derek behind. "I'm going to turn in for the night," Emily says. "You boys have fun." She winks and saunters off before they can respond.

Spencer, however, knows that what will follow will not be anything close to the fun that Emily is implying. Derek seems to realize it, too, from the look he fixes Spencer with.

Spencer takes a deep breath. “Derek,” he says, “I want to tell you the truth.”

“I'm all ears,” Derek says.

Spencer holds up the bottles of Dilaudid in clenched hands. He can't let go of them, but he can show them to Derek. He can trust Derek. “I've been using since Tobias,” he says, and he hears Derek's sharp intake of breath. He doesn't look up, knowing that if he looks Derek in the eye he'll lose his will to keep going, but his hands do start trembling just a bit. “They help calm me down, disassociate myself from the case and the memories.”

"You've been using?" Derek asks, and his voice is non-judgemental. Spencer can't read anything, to be honest. 

Spencer nods. "Everything makes me flinch, takes me back there. The drugs help."

Derek's fingers reach out and curl around Spencer's. “Spence,” he say, “You don't have to go through this on your own.”

Spencer can't process Derek's reassuring words very well. Instead, his careful control is peeling away from him quickly, leaving him with only the memories of Hankel and his own self-doubt. "I know I'm addicted, but I just can't stop. Every time I close my eyes, I see Hankel. I hear his voice, smell the burning animal livers." His hands are shaking, his voice is shaking, but his words are speeding up and he can't stop. "I see him kill that couple through a computer screen, feel the dirt of my own grave beneath my bare feet."

"Spence," Derek says, tone soft, and Spencer finally looks up. When he meets Derek's gaze, he swallows. Derek's expression is nothing but concern and reassurance. Spencer's grip on the drug bottles loosens, a weight dropping from his shoulders. Derek  _will_ help. He told Derek and everything is alright. Everything will work out. 

Spencer looks back at his hands as Derek gently pries the bottles out of Spencer's slackened fingers. He drops them hesitantly in his pocket. “I’ll help you stop,” Derek says, fingers returning to gently clasp Spencer's. “I'll help you however you need me to.” Spencer pulls his gaze from the Derek's pocket, where the irresistible Dilaudid sits, and towards their hands. “Just like a few weeks ago, Spence. I'm here for you.”

The tears of relief nearly catch Spencer's words, but he gets them out. “And I'll never miss another plane.” He steps forward, letting his hands slip out of Derek's, and tucks his arms around Derek's torso. He rests his head on Derek's shoulder, and Derek wraps his arms around Spencer's shoulders.

He can survive this.


	4. Revelations (2.15/2.18+19)

_"He who has a why can bear almost any how."_

-Nietzsche

 

_“I can't do this- I can't be on drugs. They help with the pain, but I know they're destroying me in the end. I just… I just need your help to make it through.”_

_"Anything you need."_

* * *

Hour One 

"It's not that bad."

"Trust me- we have awhile before the effects really start to set in."

 

_Derek’s blood runs cold as he looks around the empty barn, taking into account the dog corpses and the lack of human presence besides them._

Spencer _._

_He turns back to JJ. “JJ?” he asks, “Where’s Spencer?”_

_She’s still babbling- she’s obviously in shock- but he can’t take that. He goes to speak again, but Emily cuts him off. “JJ, look at me,” she instructs, and JJ faces her. “Where’s Reid?”_

_JJ startles a bit before saying: “We split up. He said he was going to go ‘round back.”_

_Derek’s racing heart calms a little, but not much. He runs out back and finds...no one. Nothing except… oh god. Blood. A pattern of flattened corn, as if a body had been dragged. No._

_He runs back out front, where he finds Emily. “There’s a pattern in the corn like someone got dragged.” He tries to stay calm, but his voice is a bit choked when he says, “Most likely Spencer.”_

_Emily’s face sags a bit, but she retains enough professional neutrality to say: “Okay, then we’ve got to get back to the command center. Alert Rossi and Hotch and get Garcia down here to evaluate the computers. There’s got to be come clue she can get to.”_

_For a few moments, Derek goes numb as they head to the car._

 

_Before they get in the car, Emily puts a hand on his shoulder. “We’ll find him, Morgan,” she tries to reassure him, voice sure, but he can’t quite believe her._

_He may not have the exact police statistics like Spencer, but he knows how many of their cases have gone awry. He’s memorized how many victims they’ve lost- he could never forget the number, burned on the inside of his eyelids._

_“You can’t guarantee that,” he says, and his voice is weak. Far weaker than he’d ever let it get normally, but this is far from normal. This is far too fucked up for any semblance of normality. “You can’t guarantee shit.”_

_“I know I can’t,” Emily says, “But know that Spencer’s the smartest person we know, and that if anyone in the world can save him, it’s us. We will do everything we possibly can to save him, and he will do everything he can to save himself, and by god we have to believe that will be enough.”_

_Derek nods, fear still burrowing its way through him but his frustration held mostly in check. “Right. We need to go back to the command center, get Baby Girl down here to look at these computers.”_

_Emily gives him a weak smile. “She can do a lot to help us find Hankel."_

_If there are two things in this world that Derek believes in, it's Spencer Reid's brains and ability to survive and Penelope Gracia's magic with tech. Despite the dread threatening to take over, a thread of hope survives._

 

Hour Ten 

Derek knows that Spencer's grip on his arms is tight enough to leave bruises, but he won't make Spencer let go. He won't even ask. He just holds Spencer close, arms encircling Spencer's torso as he shudders, sweat soaking the pajamas he's wearing.

"Derek," Spencer grits out, "I can't do this."

"Yes, you can," Derek says, trying to keep his voice strong even though his heart is breaking. “I promise you, pretty boy, you can do this.”

 

_The most terrifying moment of Derek Morgan’s life is not when he is accused of murder, or assaulted by Carl as a child, but when he’s stuck in front of a grainy video feed watching his boyfriend (and his best friend) getting held held captive and tortured._

_“Think you can really see inside men’s minds? See these vermin?” Derek can hear Hankel’s growl from offscreen, but all he can look at is Spencer. Spencer, beaten and terrified and this close to being murdered at any possible moment. “Choose one to die, and I’ll let you choose one to live.”_

_“No,” Spencer whispers so quietly they can barely hear, shaking his head, and Derek can’t believe how strong he is._

_“I thought you wanted to be some kind of savior.”_

_“You're a sadist in a psychotic break,” Spencer says, still profiling even while beaten up. “You won't stop killing whether or not I choose.”_

_“The other heathens are watching,” Hankel says, and Spencer glances at the camera lens. Derek can see realization dawn on his face. “Choose one to die and I'll say the name and address of the person to be saved.”_

_“I won't choose who gets slaughtered and watch you leave their remains behind like a poacher.”_

_Derek's breath catches as Hankel surges forward and grabs Spencer by the shoulders, yanking him up so that they're staring face to face. Derek's view of Spencer is partially obscured by this, and every instinct in his body urges him to fight to see his boyfriend._

_“You see into my mind, boy?” Hankel growls, “Can you see I'm not a liar?” He orders: “Choose now, and save a life.” He shoves Spencer back, causing him to stumble backward into the chair. “Or otherwise they're all dead.”_

_There's a long pause as Spencer's gaze sweeps back and forth across something behind the camera- presumably the screens on which Hankel is displaying his chosen victims._

_“The far right screen,” Spencer whispers, voice one step removed from a harsh sob, and Derek’s heart breaks. Spencer is being forced to make a decision no man should have to ever make, and Derek knows Spencer well enough to know that it will haunt him for the rest of his life. Justified or not, these words will hang in a pall over him, the idea that Spencer sacrificed one life for another._

_Hankel rattles off an address that Gideon immediately goes to write down, but Derek doesn’t look away from the screen until it goes black. He has to watch, has to feel in someway like he’s doing something to stand by Spencer, to support him in any way. He knows that Spencer won’t know, won’t be aware of anything that’s happening outside of the hell he’s isolated into, but there's next to nothing Derek can do at the moment._

_Derek turns and storms out of the room. He punches a door as he goes by, every inch of his body feeling altogether useless. He_ _knows his boyfriend is strong, but he’s fucking tired of the universe forcing him to prove it._

 

Hour Twenty 

Spencer's finally, blessedly, asleep. Even in sleep his body trembles just slightly, curling into Derek's arms. He looks so small, so vulnerable and pale, compared to usual. He even feels more fragile, like he'll break with a simple touch.

For the first time in four years, Derek cries. He lets tears fall out of his eyes, watching as they fall onto Spencer's hair and soak in, disappearing. He tries to focus on anger rather than despair in order to push back the tears. He doesn't want to cry, to feel so helpless to help Spencer- he'd rather be angry.

By god, does he hate Tobias Hankel right now. He knows that the man had a mental illness, that he didn't have complete control of his actions, but after what he did to his victims and, specifically, Spencer, rage is all he can summon toward the man. Not pity, like he does normally to such victims of abuse and mental illness, but despairing, wretched fury.

 

_Spencer is forced to watch every grisly second of the couple’s murder. He watches, biting his lip, as every slice, every stab, is forever ingrained into his memory. He knows that he'll never forget, eidetic memory arbitrary to such horror, and that his nightmares will remember this instant forever._

_Because, despite what his rational thinking and logic may tell him, this is the moment he becomes an accomplice to murder. This is the moment his decisions, forced or not, lead to an innocent dying._

_This is the moment that he becomes a killer._

 

Hour Thirty 

"I need it," Spencer shouts, hands curled into fists against Derek's chest, but Derek won't let go. He can't let go. If he lets go, Spencer will fall back. "Let me go, Derek!"

"I'm sorry," he says, "But I won't let you. You told me not to let you have any drugs, and I won't let you get them. I care about you too much.”

"Well, I'm telling you now to listen to me and give me the drugs, Derek," Spencer growls.

"I care about you too much to let you do this to yourself," Derek says, and tunes out Spencer's muttered protests. Instead he focuses on Spencer's fists shaking against Derek's chest, the way that Spencer is falling apart under the Dilaudid like he did in Georgia. 

He's heard horror stories about detoxes, about addicts who beat up the people who tried to help them through withdrawal. He and Spencer looked up the stories last night as they tried to prepare for this, but Google can’t properly prepare you for anything.

 

_Derek can hardly stand to watch, but it’s the least he can do. Spencer is facing down a monster- the least he can do is bear witness._

_Spencer collapses back onto the ground and starts convulsing, a strange gurgle exiting his mouth._

_“That’s the devil vacating your body," Hankel declares, and Derek’s fingers clench on the back of Penelope’s chair._

_“Oh my god,” Penelope mutters, horrified, “He’s killing Reid.”_

_Spencer convulses horribly for a few more moments until he (it’s horrible to think, but if it means that Spencer stops suffering then by god that’s what should happen) blessedly_ _falls limp._

_Derek shuts his eyes, the sound of gasps, groans, and (he’s pretty sure it’s JJ) sobs filling the air. Spencer’s dead, and… and-_

_He sinks down into the chair behind him, a sense of terrible, hollow detachment floating up within him. He can’t think, can’t feel, can’t do anything, because Spencer’s dead-_

_“Shit,” Penelope gasps, and Derek looks up at the screen to find Tobias giving Spencer CPR. Derek’s breath catches as he waits a desperate eternity for Spencer to breathe._

_(He realizes he’s been disassociating. At least a minute has passed since Spencer stopped breathing. A precious, terrible minute.)_

_Finally, Spencer gasps, hacking in air, and Derek can take a shaky breath again._

_“He’s alive,” Gideon says, putting into words what the rest of them cannot._

_Hankel dashes over and turns off the camera, but Derek can at least breathe with some measure of surety now. Spencer’s alive. He’s not safe- he’s still in hell- but he’s alive._

_Derek takes another breath. Spencer’s alive._

 

Hour Forty 

"Just hold on and eat something."

"Please, Spencer."

"For me."

 

_“Tell me who you serve.”_

_"I serve you," Spencer says, as always._

_"Then choose one to die," Hankel orders, and Derek knows exactly what he wants._

_"What?” Spencer gasps, voice confused, and he's always so quick to know what the unsung is thinking that the drugs must be messing with his brain._

_“Your team members- choose one to die.”_

_The response is immediate- requires no thought whatsoever. Derek knows that his response, and everyone else's on the team, would be the same. “Kill me.”_

_(Still, to hear his boyfriend say that is like a slug to the gut.)_

_“You said you weren't one of them.”_

_“I lied.”_

_“Your team has six other members,” Hankel orders, “Tell me who dies.”_

_“No,” Spencer whispers._

_Hankel pulls out a gun and spins the chamber. Then he points it at Spencer's head, and Derek's hand flies up to cover his mouth. “Choose, and prove you'll do god's will.”_

_“No,” Spencer repeats._

_He pulls the trigger._

_“Choose,” Hankel orders._

_“I won't do it.”_

_He pulls the trigger again, and Derek's heart leaps in his chest._

_“Life is a choice.”_

_“No.”_

_One more ominous click._

_“Choose.”_

_Spencer closes his eyes and swallows. It looks as if he's coming to a decision, and Derek honestly has no idea what it might be._

_“I- I choose Aaron Hotchner,” Spencer says, and for a moment Derek thinks he heard wrong. Then Spencer continues: “He's a classic narcissist. He thinks he's better than everyone else on the team.” Wait a moment. That's not quite right. Hotch is a lot of things- bull-headed, set in his ways, sometimes neglectful of his family- but narcissistic isn't one of them. What's Spencer up to? Derek notices Hotch leaving the room. Emily and Gideon follow Hotch, but he continues to watch Spencer. He has to, until the footage cuts out. “Genesis 23:4. "Let him not deceive himself and trust in emptiness, vanity, falseness, and futility, for these shall be his recompense.”"_

_“For god's will,” Hankel says, and shoots at the air above Spencer's head. Something this in Derek's heart when there's a gunshot and a bullet shoots out. Then Hankel turns around and shuts the camera off._

_JJ, Derek, and Penelope follow the rest of the team into the other room, where Hotch is paging through a...Bible?_

_"I'm not a narcissist," Hotch mutters._

_"Come on._ _Look," Emily says, "Y_ o _u can't think anything from that._ _He's not in his right mind, Hotch."_

_"No," Hotch says, and Derek doesn't know what he's disagreeing with. He just wants answers._

_"Stop, s_ t _op. He-" Gideon starts, but Hotch cuts him off._

 _"All right, everybody right now- what's my worst quality?" When none of them respond, Hotch continues: "Ok._   _I'll start._   _I have no sense of humor."_

_“You're a bully,” JJ offers, leftover shock propelling her to honesty._

_"I'm a bully," Hotch agrees._

_“You can be a drill sergeant sometimes,” Derek says distractedly, wondering how the hell this is helping but trusting Hotch to make his point soon._

_"Right."_

_“You don't trust women as much as men,” Prentiss joins in._

_"Ok, good._ _I'm all these things,but none of you said that I ever put myself above the team, because I don't, ever. Reid and I argued about the definition of classic narcissism, and he knew that I would remember that, and he also quoted Genesis 23:4.” He flips to a page and hands the Bible to JJ. “Read it,” he says._

_“"I am a stranger and a sojourner with you. Give me property, forbear a place among you that I may bury my dead out of my sight."_

_“He wouldn't get it wrong unless it was on purpose,” Hotch says, something akin to excitement in his voice. Derek feels it just slightly too, the relief of finally getting a lead sinking in._

_Then Derek finally puts it together, to his horror. “He's in a cemetery.”_

 

Hour Fifty 

"Oh god," Spencer whispers, staring at the bruises blooming on Derek's arms. "Did I do that to you?" He runs his fingers over the bruises, just grazing Derek's skin. There are tears in Spencer's eyes as his fingers tremble against Derek's skin.

"It was the withdrawal," Derek starts to say, but Spencer jerks back from Derek. His hands slip away as he wraps his arms tightly around his torso, his gaze falling away from Derek's to stare at the ground.

"Those are the excuses an abuser gives," he says quietly. "'I was under the influence, I couldn't control myself-'"

"Spence?" Derek says, horrified, as he steps towards Spencer.

Spencer shakes his head violently as he steps back and away from Derek. The back of his legs bump into the sofa and he stops. "No!" he cuts Derek off. "I can't believe that I- I promised- oh god, how could I have done that to you? We've profiled so many abusers over the years, I just can't believe that I didn't realize the signs in myself. Derek, you have to stay away from me, because-"

"It wasn't out of anger," Derek says, and Spencer's words shudder to a stop. "That's why it wasn't abuse, or anything close, Spence. You were holding on like a woman giving birth- it was a reflex you couldn't control. You squeezed because you were in pain and I let you hold onto me because I wanted to be there for you." Spencer stares at him, expression raw and open, but he's not shouting in panic so Derek's heart starts to calm down. "Spencer, you didn't see the signs because there were no signs. There isn't one malicious bone in your body." He steps forward and places a hand on Spencer's clammy cheek. "The drug's nearly completely out of your system by now, and once it's completely filtered out you'll be able to see things more clearly." Spencer's stopped crying by now, the only sign of his breakdown the last remaining trembles wracking his body.  "Spencer," Derek says softly, moving his hand up to run his fingers through Spencer's sweat-soaked hair, "This isn't your fault. It's Hankel's. These bruises on my arms are the fault of a serial killer, not you. Never you."

"Derek," Spencer says, voice choked as he reaches out a shaking hand to Derek's cheek. "I don't deserve you."

"You do, Spencer," Derek says, "You deserve everything."

Spencer blinks back tears before stepping forward and taking Derek's hand in his. Then he pulls Derek gently back onto the sofa, where they collapse in a heap.

As Spencer curls around him, Derek's muscles finally untense. He's bone-tired, but everything is finally over.

 

_Spencer stumbles into Derek's arms, face grimy and gunpowder on his fingertips but gloriously, beautifully alive. Derek can't bring him to speak for a moment, all words stolen away by the feeling of finally having Spencer in his arms again._

_Eventually, though, he manages to get out: “God, Spence. I'm so sorry.”_

_Spencer starts to cry into Derek's shirt, and Derek can do nothing but hold him. To his sorrow, there's nothing he can do to make Spencer feel better right now._


	5. All Have Pain (2.19-2.21/2.15)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title is from the quote by Sherman Alexie: "There are all kinds of addicts, I guess. We all have pain. And we all look for ways to make the pain go away."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Haley's outfit can be found here: https://photo.venus.com/im/17172921.jpg?preset=m-product  
> Spencer here:  
> https://wwwimage-secure.cbsstatic.com/base/files/styles/596xh/public/95521_tt_0114r_0.jpg  
> Derek:  
> http://danslessouliersdoceane.hautetfort.com/media/01/01/1044021615.jpg  
> Hotch:  
> https://i.pinimg.com/originals/a2/bc/82/a2bc82206b2e639a4a9e5ecb8ae38712.jpg

_“I wanted a drink. There were a hundred reasons why a man will want a drink, but I wanted one now for the most elementary reason of all. I didn't want to feel what I was feeling, and a voice within was telling me that I needed a drink, that I couldn't bear it without it._

_But that voice is a liar. You can always bear the pain. It'll hurt, it'll burn like acid in an open wound, but you can stand it. And, as long as you can make yourself go on choosing the pain over the relief, you can keep going.”_

_-Lawrence Block_

 

“Ok, this scumbag has issues, we all get it,” the detective says, “But why fire?”  
Spencer swallows and answers, trying to ignore the cravings that dry out his mouth. “He's like a drug addict. Only fire's his drug. Each time an addict needs a fix, they need more of the drug to get off.”

“So his crimes are most likely get much worse?” The officer asks, and Spencer nods.

“It would be almost impossible for him to quit without help,” he says, and glances at Derek, who gives him a small nod.

* * *

_“He’s more of a dog,” Haley says, watching Derek Morgan on the dance floor._

_“I’d say he’s more like a polar bear,” A new voice says, and Haley turns to see a familiar face. “Looks dangerous, and can be dangerous, but really just kind inside. Dr. Spencer Reid, Mrs. Hotchner,” he says, sticking out a hand in greeting. “We met two years ago when you and Hotch stopped by Gideon’s office to meet up with an old friend?” SHe nods, shaking his hand with a smile, and he finishes with: “And Derek’s my boyfriend.”_

_Haley’s jaw drops. “Boyfriend?”_

_Spencer nods. “As of a year in three days.”_

_“Congratulations,” she says, “Aaron mentioned a thing or two, but didn’t go into much detail. I did get the impression, though, that it came as a surprise when it did happen.”_

_Penelope laughs. “A surprise to no one save your husband.”_

_Hotch rolls his eyes. “Alright,” he admits, holding up his hands in surrender, “I was a bit dense when it came to the team’s relationships. But in my defense, I was a bit distracted by Jack coming up, and by my cases.”_

_“Speaking of which,” Derek says, popping up out of nowhere and slinging an arm around Spencer’s shoulders in a familiar gesture. Spencer smiles as he turns his head to press a quick kiss to Derek’s cheek. “I’m surprised we’ve gone three days without one. Almost seems like a record.”_

_“Actually,” Spencer says, “our record between cases- when not on sabbatical or break- is five days, four hours, and thirteen minutes.”_

_“See?’ Derek says with a grin, “_ Almost _a record.”_

_Suddenly everyone’s cell phones (save Haley’s) vibrate, and Emily, who was already on hers, says, “Looks like the wait’s over. JJ’s summoning us with a case.” She turns to Haley. “Nice to meet you, ma’am.” She heads off to the exit, pulling Penelope with her. “C’mon, Garcia, we’ve got work to do.”_

_“Well, sweetheart,” Haley says, and presses a kiss to Hotch’s cheek. “It looks like it’s time for you to go. It was nice to meet your team like this. Hope we can do this again sometime.”_

_“Sounds like fun,” Derek says, “Right, Spence?”_

_“This was quite enjoyable,” Spencer admits. “Far more than I was expecting, really.”_

_“And you say you don’t like surprises,” Derek teases._

_“My mind adjusting to an unfamiliar experience and terming it enjoyable is different than the team jumping out of a dark room and shouting “Happy Birthday!”” Spencer protests. He turns to Hotch and Haley. “We’ve got to head in to the office. See you in a few minutes, Hotch.” He looks at Haley. “Nice to see you again, ma’am.”_

_“You too, Spencer,” she says, and they scamper off._

* * *

When they get back to Quantico after the Russian mob case (and wow, Emily's mother is involved in some strange stuff), Hotch pulls Derek and Spencer aside. “Haley was wondering when you guys wanted to have that double date,” Hotch says.

Spencer’s bewildered. “She still wants to have the double date?”

Hotch nods. “Why wouldn't she?”

A million reasons immediately flash through Spencer’s mind, starting with _Dilaudid_ and ending with _PTSD._ “Alright,” he says, “Sounds like fun to me.” He looks to Derek. “What do you think, Derek?”

Derek smiles. “I like the idea. It'll be nice not only relax, but to see Hotch in plain clothes.”

Hotch rolls his eyes, but that half-smile is pulling at his lips so Spencer takes it as a good sign.

* * *

Spencer is lucky enough that Hotch doesn't bring up the double date until after they finish their next case- a horrifying case in which the unsub’s literally hunted humans with bow and arrow. Spencer can't hide forever, though, as Hotch  _does_ eventually bring it up.

“Where would you guys want to go on a double date?” Hotch asks.

“Wherever Spencer’s comfortable going,” Derek says, and Spencer nods.

“Have you guys ever been to Botticelli’s?” Spencer asks, trying to swallow back his insecurities. He can survive a double date with Hotch and Haley- he has Derek, he'll be fine. “It’s our favorite.”

“No, I don't think so,” Hotch says, “I'll call Haley and ask.”

* * *

They arrive at the restaurant the next day. Spencer sees that they're all nicely dressed, though not too fancy- [Derek](http://danslessouliersdoceane.hautetfort.com/media/01/01/1044021615.jpg) in a blazer and button down, [Hotch](https://i.pinimg.com/originals/a2/bc/82/a2bc82206b2e639a4a9e5ecb8ae38712.jpg) in a button-down but not a suit, [Spencer](https://wwwimage-secure.cbsstatic.com/base/files/styles/596xh/public/95521_tt_0114r_0.jpg) in a button-down and sweater vest, and [Haley](https://photo.venus.com/im/17172921.jpg?preset=m-product) in a magenta blouse and blue jeans. They all look normal, unlike they do in the bullpen.

They stop in front of the hostess stand.

“Four adults,” Derek says to Tiana, the main hostess, “And if you don't mind, could we sit in Naomi’s section?”

“Anything for Derek Morgan,” Tiana says with a wink, and Spencer can see Haley glancing at Spencer in question. Spencer doesn't mind, though- flirting is just Derek's personality, and Tiana is just a friend. It's a bit of fun.

(And besides, Spencer knows that one day Derek will leave him for a better option. He's fine with it- he just wants Derek to be happy, and him being asexual will prevent Derek from getting sexual pleasure. After all, allosexuals in relationships have greater psychological satisfaction when their relationships include continuous sexual intercourse.

Spencer respects himself not to give that as he knows it would make him uncomfortable, but he knows that he can't give Derek what he, as an allosexual, desires, and he's accepted it.)

They're sat at their table- a booth on one side, where Hotch and Haley sit, and chairs on the other, where Derek and Spencer sit.

They make light conversation as they decide on their meals and drinks.

"So, how's Jack?" Spencer asks, not having to look at the menu. He and Derek have been here so many times that they have the menu memorized and already know exactly which dishes they like.

"He's doing fine, thanks," Haley says, "My mom's babysitting tonight."

[Naomi](http://www3.pictures.zimbio.com/gi/Katherine+McNamara+Jay+Godfrey+Presentation+BWtRj_MrysPl.jpg) arrives at their table, smile wide and bright red hair pulled back in a bun. A sophomore at the local Bartleby College, she's been working here for about a year. From months of dinners here, Spencer and Derek have learned that she's double majoring in History and Creative Writing, that she loves Oscar Wilde with a burning passion, and that her girlfriend, Jiao, also goes to Bartleby and is majoring in Biomedical Engineering.

"Heard my favorite couple was here," she says.

"Glad to see  _our_ favorite waitress is here," Derek says, charming as always.

Spencer smiles at Naomi. "How's Jiao doing?"

Naomi grins, just as she always does when her girlfriend is mentioned. "She's doing well, acing her Microbiology class, thanks for asking." Naomi looks at Hotch and Haley, who are watching with amusement on their faces. "And who are these lovely people?"

"Aaron and Haley Hotchner," Derek says. "We work with Aaron at the BAU."

"Wait," Naomi says, "This is the famous Hotch?"

Hotch arches an eyebrow while Haley grins. "Famous?" she asks.

Naomi nods. "The boys talk about all of their teammates. You're Unit Chief, right?"

Hotch nods, amusement on his face. 

"But, right. Drinks," Naomi says, focusing back on her job, "I'm betting Derek and Spencer want their usual?" Derek and Spencer nod, and she looks to Haley and Hotch. "What do the Hotchners want to drink?"

"Do you have Pepsi or Coke products?" Haley asks.

"Pepsi," Naomi answers helpfully.

"Then Diet Pepsi for me, please," Haley says.

"And ice water for me, please," Hotch says.

"Then I'll have them out in a couple of minutes," Naomi says, then smiles and leaves.

-

"And then James went to the nursery," Haley says, "And he found a  _forty pea plants_ there."

Derek and Hotch laugh as Spencer takes a sip of his lemonade, unsure of why the story was funny but enjoying his friends' response nonetheless. This feeling of inclusion is a welcome one.

Naomi arrives with the food, cutting off Haley's story. Naomi distributes the food. "Parmesan chicken for Ms. Hotchner," she says, "Fettuccini Alfredo for Derek, Three Meat Lasagna for Spencer, and sausage ravioli in marinara sauce for Mr. Hotchner."

Spencer grins at the sight and smell of his favorite meal. He raises his fork, ready to dig in, but then the smell of everyone else's food wafts over.

Spencer blinks, and all he can smell is the burnt chicken on Haley’s plate. His grip tightens on Derek’s thigh as the inside of a small cabin flashes through his mind, the bright lights of Botticelli’s overwhelmed by the memory of pain cracking across the bottoms of his feet.

He swallows hard, trying to dispel the image- and the craving for drugs building deep in his gut- and releases his hold on Derek’s thigh. He picks up his fork so that he can eat his lasagna (and hopefully replace the bitter taste in his mouth). His hands shake only the slightest bit, but all he can see is the inside of that cabin. He can feel the gun residue on his fingertips, the pain lashing across the bottoms of his feet.

The craving builds, and he knows he won't be able to last very much longer.

He looks up from his food to find Derek and Hotch looking at him, looks of concern on their faces.

“If you’ll excuse me,” Spencer says, forcing a smile, “I have to use the restroom.” He sets his napkin on the table and tosses Derek a quick smile as he heads off.

Once in the restroom, he quickly relieves himself before standing in front of the mirror, staring at himself. His hands are empty of drug bottles and his veins free of Dilaudid, which is _good_ , he knows, but he can’t help but want it so he can relieve the memories. So he can relieve the pain. He doesn't want to remember the pain. He doesn't want to remember killing a man.

He rubs at his eyes, a nervous tic. He recently switched from glasses to contacts, and the phantom weight on his nose is distracting. Rubbing his face quickly goes from distracting to slightly painful, but the pain feels good. He can grab at the feeling, pull it, use it.

After a few minutes of staring at the mirror, the door to the bathroom opens and Spencer turns to find Derek standing there.

“You’re not okay, are you, Pretty Boy?” Derek asks, and Spencer shakes his head. His hands are shaking, his head fuzzy, and his every cell is screaming for Dilaudid.

“I want it,” he groans, and Derek steps toward him. “Oh god, it hurts.”

“Spencer, breathe with me,” he instructs, placing a reassuring hand on Spencer's arm, and though Spencer would rather pull out his own hair than try to calm down he nods and follows Derek's instructions. He matches Derek breath for breath until his breathing is back to a normal pace and the craving has lessened to a manageable amount.

After a few sane moments: “You okay now, Spencer?”

“The cravings are down to a manageable level,” Spencer says, letting his brain slide into clinical analysis. It helps calm him further, science a comfortable crutch to distract him from the craving for Dilaudid. “The shaking in my hands has decreased by 80% and the pain has lessened."

"Do you need some Advil?" Derek asks, naming the drug that has been Spencer's painkiller of choice since Georgia.

Spencer focuses on Derek’s hand against his arm, the reassuring touch. It grounds him, makes him feel more human. He shakes his head.

“I need to go to an NA meeting after dinner,” Spencer says, “And then get some sleep.”

“Anything you need,” Derek says.

“And then, tomorrow, if we don’t have a case, perhaps we could spend the day together,” Spencer says, and looks up at Derek hopefully. He finds Derek grinning.

“I’d love to spend the day with you, Pretty Boy.”

Spencer pulls Derek in by his elbows, not rough but not gentle either. He is insistent, needy, and when his lips and Derek’s collide it is a relief. He kisses Derek and it is desire, want, pooling in his stomach, coursing through his veins, _demanding_ sensation. Derek’s hands find their way to Spencer’s hips, and Spencer finds himself being pulled in. Not in a sexual way, mind you, but in an intimate way that spells out just how much Derek wants him close. Spencer has no protest to such an action- no, rather, he welcomes it. This is the kind of sensation he could easily become addicted to, no hesitation involved.

(One day, when Derek leaves him, when Derek realizes that Spencer cannot give him what he deserves, all of this will be just a beautiful, painful memory. Spencer welcomes this kind of pain, though, far more than he welcomes the pain of addiction. Someday, this will be worth it.)

“Damn, Pretty Boy,” Derek says, voice hoarse as they part, and Spencer smiles.

“Hookups in bathrooms are quite common in American culture,” Spencer says, “A number of popular movies include such scenes.”

Derek grins. "You saying we're a movie, Spence?"

"I'm saying we could be," Spencer says, feeling strangely sappy. God, he cares so much about this man.

-

“Sorry about that,” Derek says as they slide back into their chairs, “Just had a small issue we had to take care of.”

“Reid,” Hotch says, a note of concern to his voice, “You all good?”

Spencer nods. “Yeah, I'm fine.”

And for this moment, he is.


	6. The Major Lift: (2.22/1.11)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title comes from "Hallelujah" by Leonard Cohen.
> 
> Quick note before the chapter begins: I am ace. I have mostly written from Spencer's POV because of this, but Derek's views on intimacy and his sexual identity are important to this story as well. This chapter discusses masturbation, which I have never experienced. I hope I do a decent enough job of touching on it, but I am not pretending to be an expert. With that being said, please enjoy the chapter!

_"I know what I want and what I don’t want. I’ve never wanted sex. Never. I’ve never understood why it has to be in every book and movie and television show ever made. I never figured out why porn is such a huge thing. I'll be fine if no guy ever takes his shirt off for me. I’m not scared, I just don’t want it."_

_-Kathryn Ormsbee_

 

 

_Spencer can’t quite look Derek in the eye this morning. After yesterday night and the conversation they had- the things he told Derek, did with Derek, that he’s never done with anyone else before- everything feels so different. He has no idea where he and Derek stand after a conversation and a kiss. Maybe it didn't mean as much to Derek as it did to Spencer. Maybe it was a spur-of-the-moment thing, less of a conscious decision and more of a spontaneous act._

_Maybe, just maybe, it meant something new and good._

_(He can’t stop pressing his lips together, wondering over the feeling of Derek’s lips on his. It’s a strange thing, having your first kiss- he doesn't know how he went so long without it.)_

_He reaches to touch his lips again, but Elle interrupts and he drops his hand back down to his keyboard. “Reid,” she says, “Time for the briefing.”_

_He nods. “Got it,” he says, and stands up._

- 

_“Spencer?” Derek asks after everyone else has left the briefing room._

_Spencer looks up from picking up the last few files before heading to the jet. “Yes?”_

_“I was thinking- do you want to go on a date after this case?”_

_Spencer’s jaw drops. “Are you serious?”_

_“As serious as- what did you say yesterday- Einstein’s theory of relativity,” Derek says with a wink._

_Spencer swallows and nods. “Sure,” he says, neglecting to mention the fact that this will be his first date ever. He’s sure- he_ knows _, actually, having heard Derek's tales of past exploits- that Derek’s gone on numerous dates in the past with both men and women._

_He tries not to think about how this will probably end before it’s barely had a chance to begin, about how Derek will realize how inadequate he is. He knows his own faults far too well. His intelligence is extensive, off the charts- he’ll never be inadequate in that area. The real problem is in other areas- that of emotions, of flirting and romance and properly interacting with other people, much less potential love interests- where he has numerous failings that he’s sure Derek will uncover._

_(But there is that kiss, though. Spencer presses his lips together again, remembering sensations that he wants to relive again. God, does he want to feel like that again, to kiss Derek again.)_

_-_

_“24 files, pretty boy?” Derek asks after the case is finished, and Spencer glances up at him, a smile growing on his face. “Think they can wait ‘til tomorrow?”_

_Spencer nods, anxiety bubbling up in his stomach. This is it- this is the night it’ll all go wrong._

_(Or, he hopes desperately, it’ll all go right.)_

* * *

When it comes to cases like this, Spencer is constantly bewildered by the lengths humans can go to for sexual gratification. To kill women, to have sex with the _bodies_ \- he understands the biochemistry and abuse behind the warped psychology behind necrophiles, but he never wants to _understand_ the 'logic' guides such monstrous philosophies.

He barely understands allosexuals to begin with, though. Well, logically speaking, he understands the biology of it, but _personally_ , sex has never done a thing. It's genuinely bewildering that the rubbing of genitals and exchange of bodily fluids results in a feeling of intimacy and pleasure.

He knows his boyfriend is allosexual- bisexual, to be specific- and it doesn't bother him. It does allow questions, though. What kind of satisfaction and fulfillment can Spencer provide a relationship if there is no sexual component?

Spencer tries not to dwell on this. Instead, he focuses on the way Derek kisses him before they fall asleep, the taste of Botticelli's lasagna, the way they always fall into step beside each other when on a case. He focuses on the way they bounce facts and theories off of each other when figuring out a profile, the smell of Derek's morning breath, the way they both always make sure the sheets are tucked in before they leave in the morning.

He focuses on all the ways he feels loved.

-

It's been over a year of celibacy for Derek, which has surely got to be some kind of record since he first had sex (consensual sex, that is) at age 16.

It's a strange feeling, not being in either a single, continuous relationship with sex every few nights, or occasionally going out and having one-night stands.

But right now, his relationship is far more important than having sex, so he takes care of his libido as allosexual males have since the beginning of time.

Jerking off is interesting, assuredly. He doesn't want to think of anyone save his partner, as he always has, but thinking of Spencer also feels strange. Spencer is asexual, and while not necessarily sex-repulsed is certainly not comfortable with sexual words or actions being directed at him.

They share an apartment, a bedroom, a bed. Derek and Spencer know each other as intimately as one can without having sex. Derek knows what Spencer's morning breath smells like, knows that Spencer tends to sing softly sometimes when he's asleep (but always in Spanish), and that Spencer tends to cuddle tight when he's comfortable and sleep in a rigid line when he's not.

The last thing Derek wants to do is make Spencer uncomfortable.

(What's interesting, though, is that masturbating is almost turning into a chore nowadays rather than an actually fulfilling experience. Sure, there's physical pleasure involved, but the emotional connection is lacking. Without the image of his current partner to keep him going, masturbation is nowhere near as emotionally satisfying.)

* * *

_"Pretty Boy," Derek says, "You seem nervous. Have I done something I shouldn't have?"_

_Spencer shakes his head. "No, Derek- I've been having a lot of fun tonight." And it's true- they went to Botticelli's, a nice Italian place that wasn't too expensive, and are now taking a walk back to Spencer's apartment, where Derek left his car._

_For the first part of the date, Spencer had been too full of excitement and happiness to focus on his insecurities that much. But now...they're intruding, making him anxious._

_Spencer's reassurances aren't doing much, though. "Am I making you uncomfortable?" Derek asks, concern in his voice._

_Spencer shakes his head. "No, you're not."_

_"You sure, Pretty Boy? You've gotten a lot less talkative since we left Botticelli's."_

_Spencer lets out a small, wry chuckle. "This is the first date I've ever gone on," he says._

_"Ever?" Derek asks, seeming a bit surprised._

_Spencer nods. "Two days ago, on the jet, that was my first kiss."_

_Derek's eyes go wide. "You're kidding?"_

_Spencer shakes his head. "Not much time or reason for dating when you're a nine-year-old in high school or a fourteen-year-old in college. I had my first PhD by the time most kids my age had a boyfriend."_

_"My first boyfriend was age 19," Derek says, though he clearly seems a bit rattled. "First girlfriend was age 16."_

_An awkward silence falls over them. Spencer can think of no way to respond to Derek's statement, and without Spencer responding Derek has fallen silent._

_Eventually Spencer speaks. "If you want to leave, you can," he says quietly, though that is the absolute last thing he wants. "I understand if my inexperience is offputting. We can just be friends. I'd understand."_

_Derek shakes his head. "No, Spence. I care too much about you. If you had enough fun on this date to want to go on a second, I want to go on another date."_

'Spence?'  _Spencer grins, remembering his conversation with Gideon a few weeks ago. He had come out (kind of, at least) to Gideon after Gideon had given him tickets to go on a date with JJ. Gideon and assumed that 'Spence' as a nickname had meant that he and JJ had been interest in each other._

_The irony- that now, the person using the name 'Spence' is someone who he is actually inretested in, and who seems to be reciprocating that interest- is not lost on Spencer. In fact, it's fascinating that nicknames can convey such meaning, that a simple shortening of his name can convey a great depth of feeling._

_And it's a fascination he doesn't mind exploring._

_They've reached the stoop of Spencer's apartment by now._

_"I'd like that," Spencer says, feeling something unfurl in his chest._

_"Then some time next week? Don't wanna go too quick, you know." Derek is smiling, and it sets Spencer at ease._

_"Sounds like a delight to me," Spencer says._

_"Well, then," Derek says, "I'm gonna head home, get some rest. We have work tomorrow, after all."_

_"Goodnight, sweet prince, and may flights of angels sing thee to thy sleep," Spencer quotes, and Derek smiles fondly. Then he leans in, and pauses a few moments as if to ask permission. Spencer doesn't flinch, doesn't waver, and then their lips meet._ _They kiss, and it's not perfect, it's not beautiful, but it's good and it means something and Spencer_ likes _it._

_"Goodnight, Spencer Reid," Derek breathes as they part, and Spencer grins._

I could get used to this _, he thinks as he watches Derek leave, and though he still has his doubts Derek has soothed them a bit. He is looking forward to next week, and to the next date._

_This happiness is a feeling Spencer wants to last._

* * *

Derek sticks the last card up on the wall before stepping back.

“Damn,” Emily says.

“That's a lot of people,” Derek agrees.

"Yeah," Spencer says, "Homeless men, homeless women, drug dealers, runaway, prostitutes."

"Can all of their disappearances be a coincidence?" Emily asks.

"Technically, it wouldn't be a coincidence, since most of these people share high-risk traits, which throws the curve off. See, coincidence implies-”

“Pretty boy,” Derek says gently, “That's plenty interesting, but we've got a bit of a bigger issue here. Tell me later?”

Spencer nods, swallowing. "Sorry."

"No problem," Derek says.

\----

"You're a good guy, you know," Emily says to Derek as he steps away from helping one of the homeless ladies to her makeshift cart, “You make the people around you feel good."

“Well, he's not Charlie Chaplin-” Hotch starts, interrupting them, and Derek turns to find Spencer and Hotch there.

“Again with the Chaplin,” Derek mutters.

“How'd you guys do?” Emily asks.

“Well, Reid got propositioned by every prostitute we talked to-” Derek raises an eyebrow, impressed, “-but no one's seen the unsub.”

-

“Pretty boy's got some game,” Derek says, leaning in to brush shoulders with Spencer as they head back to the SUV. The brush with Social Services, courtesy of Derek, was a bit unexpected, but needed. Now that they have a destination, the urgency is still there, but now they're close to a lead.

Spencer rolls his eyes. “It's 'game’ I don't really want to have.”

Derek grins. “How about my game?”

Spencer fights a smile. “When you refer to it as 'game,’ no.”

“How about a kiss, then?” Derek asks, and Spencer ducks in to peck him on the cheek before leaning back.

“That’s all you get for now."

Derek groans as he opens the door to the SUV. "And how long will 'now' last?"

"Until we solve the case," Spencer says, climbing in the passenger seat of the SUV. 

"Right," Derek says.

\---

After the case, Spencer and Derek slump into their jet seats with a sort of wretched dejection. After what they just saw- the labyrinth of torture, the rivers of blood, the few video tapes they could bear to witness- it makes a certain amount of sense that they sit at a table opposite each other rather than sitting next to each other. Though there is a lack of physical touch and comfort this way, there is something to be said for being able to look at each others' faces. Seeing Derek's healthy, unscarred face reassures Spencer. It reminds him that the man he lo-cares about is okay, that even after sixty four or more deaths Derek is still alive.

(Spencer is quite certain that some part of Derek is feeling the same way, with the way he stares at Spencer's face, gaze drinking in the sight of him even as he slumps back in his seat. Despite the morbid topic of conversation, his gaze never wavers.)

"You know, I always think I've seen the worst of humanity," Derek says, "And then we get a new case, and I get reminded of just how fucking far humanity can sink."

 _""The seed of every sin known to man is in my heart_ ,"" Spencer quotes. "Between us all, we have far too many memories of depravity."

"It's why we ended up here," Derek says, and lets out a hollow laugh. "We saw nightmares and decided that we couldn't allow anyone to experience the same thing."

 _Carl Buford_ , Spencer thinks but doesn't say, _Thomas Hankel._

Instead, Spencer nods. "It's how we survive, push through. For every dead body, every bloody video, every dismembered corpse, there is a living human we can save."

"And sometimes that person is even ourselves," Derek says, and Spencer is almost surprised at how similar their paths of thought are. He knows the cases that Derek is referencing- the train, Hankel, Buford, the Fisher King. Every case that became more personal than it ever should have been.

"All the more reason to continue. Bring justice to all the people who cannot give themselves."

Derek lets out a small, hollow laugh. "That's almost exactly what I said to Buford."

It's clear that this case is bringing up the worst of memories, and Derek is dwelling in them.

"Look at me, Derek," Spencer says, and Derek raises an eyebrow. Spencer understands his confusion- Derek is looking directly at him, after all. "I am here. I'm alive and safe.  _We're_ safe."

At first Spencer's not sure if he got across his point- because as usually happens in emotional situations, his words have failed him- but from the way Derek's shoulders relax, some of the tension leaking away, he thinks he did.

Spencer offers up a small smile. "When we get back home, let's go out to Botticelli's and grab a movie."

Derek raises an eyebrow. "A 'movie' or a movie?"

Spencer rolls his eyes. "An actual movie. A comedy or something of the like, if you want."

"Night at the Museum?" Derek offers. "I've heard it's nice enough, a good distraction, and a happy ending. Not to mention plenty of historical inaccuracies you can criticize under your breath."

"Hey," Spencer protests, "I don't always do that."

"Yes, you do," Derek says, "And it's one of the things I love about you."

 _Love_ \- the word catches in his throat. It's not those three words in the order that might actually drive him to an anxiety attack, but it  _is_ close. His mom is the only person he can remember saying those three words- if Derek says them, he'll be the second person in Spencer's twenty five years of life to do so.

Spencer thinks that maybe, someday, Derek might actually say those words. And hopefully- well, hopefully Spencer will say those words back.

* * *

_“There’s something different about you,” JJ says, and Spencer fights the urge to smile._

_“Really?” He asks._

_“Yeah. You seem a lot more relaxed, a lot less tense than usual. You seem lighter, as if a weight has been lifted from your shoulders.”_

_Spencer does smile now- it seems as if what he’s been feeling for Derek is something good that others can recognize._

_“And see? You’re smiling. Something’s going on.”_

_“Yeah,” Spencer admits, “It is.”_

_“Then spill, Reid,” JJ says, leaning forward slightly in her seat. “You win an award? Get a girlfriend?”_

_Heteronormative assumptions are always lovely- especially from people who should know better. “Something like that,” Spencer says._

_“A boyfriend?” JJ asks, and he, startled, nods. “Really?” Her tone is interested, not accusatory, and he smiles. “Well, then, congrats. He’s a lucky man. How long have you known him?”_

_“About three years or so, but we’ve only been dating for about a week.”_

_“And you really like him?” she asks._

_“Yeah,” Spencer says, “He’s wonderful. He’s smart, and attentive, and strong, and-” he blushes, “-really handsome.”_

_“Who’s handsome, Reid?” Derek says from behind him, and Spencer starts. He turns in his seat to find Derek standing a few feet away, arms crossed and an eyebrow raised._

_“Oh,” Spencer says, trying to keep his tone casual, “Just this guy.”_

_“Hey, Morgan,” JJ asks, “Did you know Reid has a boyfriend?”_

_“Yeah, actually,” Derek says with a grin._

_JJ raises an eyebrow. “Really? Who is it?”_

_Derek smiles. “That’s for him to tell, not me. After all, it_ is _Spencer’s boyfriend.”_

_“C’mon, Morgan,” JJ pleads, “You gotta tell. Reid’s super private about everything. You’ve gotta help me.”_

_“You’re the profiler- figure it out on yourself. Spencer may be a private person, but-”_

_“Uh, guys?” Spencer asks, and waves a hand a bit to get their attention. “I’m right here.”_

_“I know who it is,” Elle says, and Spencer and Derek lock eyes for a brief instant before turning to look at her. She stands leaning against the railing in front of the briefing room, a cool look on her face. “See- you just gave it away. Again. Honest, Reid- it’s been given away at least three or four times during this conversation, depending on whether the listener views your boyfriend in the same context that you do.”_

_“Meaning?” Derek asks and she smirks._

_“That when he described the boyfriend with the adjectives “smart, attentive, strong, and handsome,” someone could say that those are all subjective and a matter of complete opinion. However, if you know Reid, then you could easily deduce who he’s talking about. Personally, I don’t know if I’d qualify the boyfriend by any of those adjectives, but hey, what do I know?”_

_Spencer watches Derek’s reaction and finds him rolling his eyes. Spencer grins. “Quite a lot, actually,” he says, testing Derek’s buttons just a little bit. Three years of friendship before entering into this relationship gives him the confidence to do this, even if it doesn’t give him the self-esteem to believe in himself and his ability to perform properly in a romantic function._

_Derek scoffs. “You’re ridiculous, Reid.”_

_“Found it,” JJ says, triumphant, and Spencer turns to look at her. “Elle’s right- you do give it away quite easily- if one’s paying attention.”_

_“Really?” Derek asks, tone a bit resigned, and JJ nods, grinning._

_“Can’t wait to see how long it takes Hotch, Gideon, and Garcia to figure it out,” Spencer says._

_“Oh, Baby Girl already knows,” Derek says._

_Spencer nods. “She’s your best friend- of course she does.”_

_“She’s not my-” Derek starts._

_JJ and Elle interrupt him simultaneously. “Yes, she is.”_

_Elle continues: “You don’t flirt with anyone you’re not romantically interested in that much unless they’re your best friend.”_

_“Wait a moment,” Spencer starts, “You flirted that much with me- oh. Right. Non-platonic.”_

_JJ giggles, and even Elle and Derek can’t resist a chuckle. “Pretty boy, you’re smart, but sometimes it takes you awhile to catch up.”_

_Spencer tries not to let that hurt, and for the most part he lets it wash through like he does any of Derek’s normal teasing. “And yet you are the one who thought I needed a whistle because you thought I couldn't make a shot."_

_"Touché, Pretty Boy."_

* * *

Back in HQ, they all sit down to watch Gideon's old Charlie Chaplin films. Derek positions himself between Penelope and Spencer, sharing a bowl of popcorn with Penelope on one side while holding Spencer's hand under the table on the other.

Derek watches Charlie Chaplin and allows himself to let go of the nasty memories. He laughs along with jokes nearly a century old. He welcomes the escape provided by fiction and friends, the presence of both driving away memories of a past better off forgotten.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, chapter 6 in the original outline/draft covered events somewhere deep in Season 3. Clearly that is not the case anymore, and this fic is going to be much longer than I anticipated. Hope you guys are okay with that!


	7. The Opposite of Love's Indifference (3.1/3.2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title is from "Stubborn Love" by the Lumineers.
> 
>  
> 
> Sorry for the big gap between chapters- I was not expecting so much character development/introspection to happen. Oh well, Rossi'll be here soon, right?

_“When everything goes to hell, the people who stand by you without flinching -- they are your family. ”_

_―_ **_Jim Butcher_ **

 

“Happy birthday, Derek,” Spencer says, placing a single lopsided cookie in front of Derek. It's a bit too thick and burnt for a normal chocolate chip cookie, but it's the thought that counts. “Don't worry, you don't look a day over thirty four,” Spencer continues, and Derek laughs. Spencer's tone is earnest, but he doesn't seem to understand the common flirtation. No biggie- it's actually kind of cute that the man who knows everything is clueless about flirting.

“You're adorable, Spence,” Derek says, and Spencer blushes.

“You want some cake?” Spencer asks, turning away from compliments on that awkward way of his. Someday, Spencer _will_ get Spencer to accept his compliments, but today he doesn't want to push. Today is a happy day- this morning Spencer woke up without tears, screams, or shakes. They had a lazy breakfast, didn't get called in, and spent a few hours alternating marathoning Doctor Who (Spencer got Derek hooked, though he'll never admit it) and checking highlights of the game last night.

“Of course, pretty boy,” Derek says, and opens the silverware drawer. He pulls out two forks and hands one to Spence, who smiles and takes it. “How could I ever turn down your cooking?”

Spencer lets out a laugh. “There's a reason we eat out so often, Derek, and it's not because I have an addiction for Italian food.”

The joke has a bit of a bitter bite to it, but Derek ignores that in favor of the joke that it is. “I actually _can_ cook, though,” He says, “So there's a fault in your reasoning.”

“I definitely can't cook, though, so I'd disagree,” Spencer says, offering Derek a smile as he grabs the first bite of cake. (The man can definitely eat- that's certainly nothing to worry about.)

“I'd have to agree with you on that,” Derek says and digs in as well.

“Whatever happened to complimenting my skills?” Spencer asks.

“Just being honest with you, Spence,” Derek says as he takes a bite if his lovingly made, definitely burnt birthday cake.

\---

“Morgan fought to protect his identity from those who could help him, even keeping some from his boyfriend, because trust has to be earned and there are very few people he truly trusts.”

Down in the bullpen, Hotch can see Reid and Morgan tossing a paper ball around. JJ joins in, a smile on her lips, as does Prentiss after a few moments of hesitation. Despite the necessity of his conversation, the hint of a smile threatens to pull at the corners of his lips. Seeing his team so carefree is a circumstance that lightens his heart.

“Reid’s intellect is a shield which protects him from his emotions, and at the moment his shield is under repair.”

As he speaks, Reid's gaze flickers to Morgan. The smile on Reid's face pulls slightly, something raw passing over his face before sliding back into a grin as Hotch continues his profile to Strauss.

\---

“Derek, I'm heading out.”

The case has been a rough one- without Hotch and Prentiss for the first few days (thank God they came back at the end- they're a family, through and through) or with Gideon’s continued disappearance, things had been on rather shaky ground for awhile there.

“Where are you going?” Derek asks, and Spencer swallows.

“I’m going to Gideon’s cabin. With the case over, I want to see if I can figure out what happened to him.”

“You want me to go with?”

Spencer purses his lips and shakes his head. “I think I need to do this on my own.” He doesn’t want to explain why- he just hopes that Derek will respect his reasons without having to ask for them.

Derek’s gaze sweeps over Spencer’s face, and Spencer waits a moment until Derek nods. “Of course,” he says, and Spencer thanks whatever deity may exist that his boyfriend respects him. “Just don’t take _too_ long, okay? I worry.”

Spencer nods as he grabs his coat. “Never.”

_\---_

_“You can go with someone who likes the Bears-"_

_“Morgan?” Spencer suggests, mind snapping to the immediate suspect. “He pretends he doesn't like them because his friend plays for them, but I know he actually enjoys watching them.”_

_Gideon raises an eyebrow. “So you_ do _like Morgan.”_

 _Spencer blinks. Does he? Derek is one of his best friends, yeah, but does he really like Derek like_ that _? He doesn’t think so, but now that he thinks about it JJ is far more open about her Bears fanaticism than Derek is. If he didn’t have a preoccupation with Derek’s thoughts and behaviors, then the logical reaction would be to think of JJ’s love for the Bears._

_Spencer swallows. Derek obviously doesn’t reciprocate Spencer’s feelings, so no matter what Spencer may feel it’s definitely water under the bridge. Spencer values their friendship far more than any romantic entanglements he may wish for. “That's besides the point.”_

_Gideon nods and doesn’t pry any further. Spencer appreciates this. He is really thankful that Gideon isn’t asking, isn’t prying, is_ trusting _Spencer-_

 _Shit. He wants to come out to Gideon. He wants to_ trust _Gideon with more, but-_

 _He’s never come out before. There’s been anyone he trusts or cares enough about to come out to before. Gideon, on the other hand- Spencer trusts Gideon like a father. More than a father, really, considering what_ his _father did to him._

_Spencer glances around the jet. Everyone else is asleep or otherwise occupied- Hotch is busy working on paperwork at the other end of the plane._

_“Gideon,” Spencer says, “I'm not interested in sex.” Like always, he can't read Gideon’s expression. “Are you surprised?” Spencer asks, uncertain._

_Gideon shakes his head. “Not really.”_

_Spencer raises an eyebrow. “Really?” he asks._

_“Do you want me to be?”_

_To be honest? “I don’t know.”_

_Gideon makes a non-committal noise and Spencer swallows. He doesn’t know how to feel right now- this is the first time he’s ever properly come out. Back in high school the kids had known he liked boys- the way he looked at Alex Lisbon sealed the deal on that cold coffin, unfortunately- but his asexuality? His_ lack _of reaction to boys? That was something he never shared._

_He can’t figure out how to feel right now._

\---

Derek is watching the TV when he hears the front door open. Spencer's been gone, trying to figure out what happened to Gideon, and it sounds like he's back.

Derek didn't want to let Spencer go alone- he had wanted to support Spencer after everything- but Spencer had quietly asked him to go alone so Derek had acquiesced and stayed at the apartment. Derek knows what it’s like to lose someone, to need space to process grief. As much as he wants to help Spencer, he wants Spencer to be able to adjust however he needs to.

Then Spencer steps into the room, and Derek looks up. He sees that Spencer’s fingers are shaking. There's a letter in his hand, a look of blank numbness on his face.

Derek dreads his answer, but he's worried so he asks gently: “What happened, Spence?”

“Gideon’s gone,” Spencer breathes, and Derek stands up. _Fuck._  “He left us. Left a letter addressed to me. _Me._ Not the team. _Me._ Said that he knew it would be me to go looking. Knew me, inside and out, yet still left. Just like my dad did, when he left me and my mom.”

This is most emotional, most devolved pattern Derek has ever heard Spencer speak in. Spencer, who normally speaks in such grammatically perfect, well-thought out sentences, is spewing fragments. He is breaking down, having been abandoned by the second father figure he’s had.

“Why the hell did he leave?” Spencer says. The anger is leaking away from his voice as quick as it came, leaving behind naught but grief.

“Sometimes people can’t handle seeing everything we see,” Derek says, but that’s not all of it. At least, he doesn’t think it is. Whatever’s in the few pieces of paper that Spencer’s holding, it probably explains a little more than Derek ever could.

(Despite Derek’s attempts to remain objective, though, he feels anger- not just on Spencer’s behalf, but on his own. Gideon at least wrote a letter to Spencer, no matter how much that’s currently fucking Spencer up. He left nothing for the rest of the team. Derek _understands_ that Gideon was a bit closer to Spencer than the rest of them- when Gideon went on his leave, Spencer was the only one who visited him regularly- but that doesn’t cancel out four years of working together.)

Spencer’s fists clench at his sides. Spencer's anger is rare, and normally connected to abandonment issues. It spirals from instances of guilt, of loss, of a sense of fault on Spencer's part. It's an anger better left undisturbed, even if the alternative is grief.

Derek steps forward and pulls Spencer into a hug. Spencer lets him, nearly collapsing into Derek’s arms. He is shaking, arms trembling like in the bathroom at Botticelli’s.

(Derek holds Spencer in his arms and thinks, the thought more certain than anything he has ever thought, _I promise I will never leave you, Spence. I will not abandon you like they did._ )

“I...I want a hit,” Spencer mumbles. “I haven’t wanted a hit in nearly two months now, since that moment on our double date, and…” He swallows. “It’s back.” He takes a deep, shuddering breath. “I promised to tell you when I was having a problem, and...yes, it’s back.”

“Because Gideon’s gone?” Derek asks, even though it’s not a question. Spencer nods, his soft hair brushing against Derek’s cheek. “Okay then,” Derek says, “What can I do to help? Do you need a movie? An appointment with your therapist? You just gotta tell me and I’m here.”

“I…” Spencer swallows and peels himself back from Derek. He looks Derek directly in the eyes. “I'll call my therapist tomorrow.”

Derek nods. “Thank you.”

Spencer offers him a fragile smile. “So,” he says, “You were watching Doctor Who without me?”

Derek scoffs. “Of course not. You know I only watch that show for you.”

Spencer pats Derek on the chest. “Don’t worry- we’ll make a Whovian of you yet.”

Derek rolls his eyes. “Never.”

Spencer’s lips curl upward into a true smile. “Just you wait.”

\---

Spencer wakes up the next morning in bed facing Derek, arms tucked in comfortably between their chests. It’s seven minutes before they have to get up out of bed and start their routines so they can get to work on time, but Spencer often wakes up a few minutes earlier than Derek. He always enjoys these precious moments, where he can luxuriate in cuddling with a sleepy Derek.

So that’s what Spencer does.

Spencer stares at Derek’s face, ignoring the well-defined abs on display. (Derek’s bare-chested as usual. He’s basically a furnace when he sleeps and sleeps in only a pair of drawstring pajama pants.) Derek’s well-defined physical appearance has never interested Spencer- rather, his character does. His face- the way he looks at Spencer, the kindness in his eyes, the smile on his lips- that’s what Spencer cares about. Derek’s personality is so incredibly attractive, and his face is always so expressive. Even during interrogations, when his jaw is set and his eyes dark, it shows Spencer his dedication to the case.

Derek breathes in, slow and even, and Spencer’s eyes do finally drift down to his abs. He looks at Derek’s strong body, taut and toned in a way that _should_ be attractive, that should stir _something_ in his genitalia. Spencer, as always, feels nothing but a general sense of safety in this man’s arms. (And, as always, it has very little to do with Derek’s body. It has everything to do with the fact that though Derek embodies the alpha male in every way, he has one of the kindest souls Spencer has ever met. It has to do with the secrets about Derek’s childhood that he trusted Spencer with, the way he held Spencer through his detox, the way he protects and supports Penelope through whatever troubles she goes through.)

Spencer has accepted that one day Derek will leave him. He knows that he cannot fulfill every one of Derek’s needs, and even if Derek cares very deeply about him, Spencer doesn't want to trap him in a physically unfulfilling relationship for too long. Someday, he _will_ leave, and-

 _I love you,_ Spencer thinks, a sense of calm pervading him, _More than anyone save maybe my mom. I know you’ll never abandon me without warning, never take advantage of my trust. When you leave, you will have the courage and strength to tell me to my face, I’m sure of it. I know it just as well as I know that the formula of the process of cellular respiration is_ _C_ _6_ _H_ _12_ _O_ _6_ _\+ 6O_ _2_ _\-- > 6CO _ _2_ _\+ 6H_ _2_ _O + 36 or 38 ATP. I know it as well as I know that the Battle of Britain began on July 10, 1940-_

“You’re thinking too hard,” Derek mutters. He sleepily reaches out a hand and pulls Spencer in just slightly by the torso, tucking Spencer up against his chest. “Come cuddle with me.”

The slightest of smiles crosses Spencer’s face as he snuggles in closer to his boyfriend. He knows that they’ll have to get up in five minutes anyway, but he’s going to enjoy all the time he has.

_I love you, Derek Hank Morgan, and though someday I know I’ll have to give you up I’ll never stop caring about you. No matter how this story inevitably ends, I will treasure every single second I spend with you._

When Derek’s alarm goes off five minutes later, a sense of sleepy contentment sits in Spencer’s chest.

“I’m gonna go change,” Spencer mumbles, peeling back the covers. On the other side, Derek is doing the same.

“See you in the kitchen in seven,” Derek says, grabbing his clothes from off of the trunk at the end of their bed. Sitting there are two sets of folded clothing that Derek and Spencer set there last night. Spencer grabs the other one and heads into the restroom.

Once inside, Spencer changes from his pajamas- a loose t-shirt and flannel pants- into his clothing for the day. He slips on a button-down, cardigan, pair of slacks, and a tie. He slips a belt on and hooks his gun holster to it.

Then he looks at his reflection in the mirror after he slips in his contacts. He looks just fine, just like always- somewhat like the pop culture perception of the “nerdy” agent, more verging on professor than FBI agent.

(Spencer likes his own manner of dress, and none of the other agents have ever said anything against it. Derek and Penelope have even made favorable comments over how they like his outfits.)

Spencer is also so young. His facial features are a bit unconventional in shape, but his youth- in comparison to most of his teammates- is quite obvious.

He thinks back to Derek's physique, to his emotional maturity. His handsomeness, his attractiveness, is as much a product of experience as it is a product of underlying personality. Derek has had far more years than Spencer has to grow and learn. Derek may someday tire of Spencer’s lack of experience.

He picks up his pajamas from the floor and turns around, heading for the door.

Time to start a new case- without Gideon, and _with_ Emily.

(For now, Spencer has the family he loves, a family he can trust to not abandon him. He has a best friend, a boyfriend, and a variety of trusted teammates.

This is not a tragedy- at least, not for awhile yet.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, Spencer has abandonment issues he's not dealing with. We won't deal with them seriously either until season 5, so strap in!


	8. Scared to Death (3.03)

_ “I must not fear. Fear is the mind-killer. Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration. I will face my fear. I will permit it to pass over me and through me. And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path. Where the fear has gone there will be nothing. Only I will remain.”  _

_ ―  _ **_Frank Herbert_ ** _ ,  _ **_Dune_ **

 

“So, they're replacing Gideon,” Derek says to Spencer, watching his expression.

Spencer doesn’t flinch. Unlike last week, Spencer doesn’t cry or lash out or react emotionally. Derek wonders if Spencer expended all the emotion he’s willing to express last week, and now is just covering it up like he usually does.

Or, maybe, he actually has moved past it. Derek sure hopes so. He knows, personally, that it’s better to move on than to hang onto the past. It’s just more painful to dwell in the memories, the nightmares, and he tires to avoid it as much as possible.

So, for now, he’ll think only of the good.

\---

Everything still seems to be going quite fine when they get to the elevator at the site. Spencer, Derek, and Hotch are on their way to question the first family members and witnesses, and it looks like they’ll have to take the elevator to get to the second floor.

Derek and Spencer step into the elevator before Spencer glances around. “You gonna step in, Hotch?”

Hotch glances between them and the small size of the elevator. “I’m gonna take the stairs,” he says, “Meet you two upstairs.”

Spencer shrugs as Derek hits the button. “Sure thing, Hotch.”

Then, the elevator stops.

“Why isn't it moving?”

“I don't know,” Derek says, pressing buttons. He hits the alarm buttons couple of times in between trying the normal buttons.

“Don't-” Spencer starts to instruct Derek, “Stop it! Don't-”

Derek keeps trying the buttons, determined to get something to work. “What? What's the problem?”

Spencer shakes his head. “Don't do that!”

Derek raises an eyebrow. “Why not?”

“'Cause there are six elevator-related deaths per year, Not to mention ten thousand injuries that require hospitalization. Chill out, please.”

“It’s all good, pretty boy. Those sound like pretty good odds to me,” Derek says, trying to be a bit reassuring. When he sees that isn’t working, he decides to try another route. “Are you scared, Spence?” Derek teases, poking a little fun at his boyfriend. Perhaps a bit of humor will make the situation pass faster-

“I'm not scared,” Spencer snaps automatically, then his voice breaks as he continues with: “Just...bad memories, okay?”

Well, shit. Derek immediately softens. “Right, pretty boy. Sorry.”

“It's fine, Derek. No need to apolo-”

The car jerks down and Spencer's hand jerks out to grab Derek's arm. “Shit,” he gasps.

“Shit,” Derek agrees, and Spencer withdraws his hand. No need to bruise Derek's arm like he did in detox- that awful experience does not need repeating.

“Ok,” Spencer says, stretching out his arm to point at the buttons even as he braces his back against the wall. “Um, hit the- Hit the-” Derek reaches out and starts pushing the emergency bell to alert anyone outside that they're stuck. “Yeah.”

“It's not-” Derek says, tone frustrated, as Spencer tries not to panic. “Push, pull, push, pull. Nothing's happening.”

“Pry-pry- Pry the door open.”

“Just-yeah.”

“It's stuck, Spence.”

“Not today,” Spencer mutters, pressing his fingernails into his palms in an attempt to keep himself grounded, “No, not again. No, this can’t happen-”

Derek turns back to him, concern overtaking any want to get out. Spencer sounds like he’s on the edge of a panic attack. “Spence, you okay?”

“Not Hankel,” Spencer mumbles, closing his eyes as he tries not to freak out, “Not again-"

Derek reaches out a hand towards Spencer as the elevator car jerks again. Seconds later, the doors pop open to reveal Hotch.

“You guys okay?” Hotch asks, gaze searching over them. 

Derek's gaze doesn't move from Spencer's too-pale face. “Yeah, we should be.”

When Derek glances back to Hotch, the Unit Chief’s gaze seems to have softened in that infinitesimal way only the teammates and Haley can pick up on. “Take a moment before joining me,” Hotch says, and though he’s not saying it in his Unit-Chief voice, the command is unmistakable. 

(And though Derek wants to continue forward immediately, he can see the way Spencer’s hand is trembling slightly. Spencer’s not just his boyfriend- he’s a teammate, and it does no good to have a member of the team not up to full mental strength.)

Derek nods, and Hotch heads down the hallway. Derek turns back to Spencer. “You’re shaken,” Derek says. “That elevator reminded you of Hankel.” Spencer looks at him, but doesn’t affirm his estimation. Derek takes a breath and continues. “Does it remind you of the grave or the room he kept you in?”

Spencer flinches, and for a moment Derek understands all the years that Spencer does not have. He is 26, a full ten years younger than Derek. That’s a whole ten years of life he hasn’t experienced yet.

There are a number of things about Spencer Reid that aren’t as experienced as the rest of the team, but most of them Derek attributes to things other than his age. Spencer’s intellect pushed him past his peers, thus disallowing social experience, while his asexuality kept him from any kind of sexual experience. It is very rare that Spencer’s lack of experience impacts them in the field, as usually Spencer’s quick instincts and insane intellect keep him okay.

Right now, though- his eyes are blown wide in barely contained fear, his hand shaking not because of cravings, but because of a panic attack. Spencer looks almost dangerously young in this instant, vulnerable in a way he doesn’t normally seem. 

(Even in situations in which Spencer has been stuck in hostage situations, he doesn’t tend to be  _ this _ frightened.)

“Both,” Spencer admits, “The room and the grave prey on my mind all the time, but that close elevator was something I couldn't escape. If we had gotten stuck, there would have been no way out of there.” Spencer swallows, pauses in his words before continuing: “I’m afraid of a lot of things,” he says, “I just thought that I’d gotten over that particular fear.”

“There are some things you’ll never get over,” Derek says, and his reaction to the name  _ Carl Buford  _ after twenty years definitely is a testament to this fact. “It’s taken me twenty years to get past a certain memory, and even that took getting him arrested to get rid of most of the nightmares. Spence- you’ve had seven months to get past Hankel. It’s not gonna happen that fast. But I swear to you, sweetheart, things  _ will  _ get better, someday. They just won’t happen fast.”

“How can you be sure?” Spencer asks, uncertain in a way that the team’s smartest member should never be. Derek’s heart aches at the fear in Spencer’s voice, the doubt that things will ever get better. Derek remembers that feeling so well- he hates the idea that Spencer is going through that now, after Hankel is dead.

(And yet- it hits Derek that although Spencer is so shaken about what happened with Hankel, Derek has seen him face down unsub after unsub without a note of fear in his eyes. He remembers that in that graveyard, they found Spencer over a dead body. 

Spencer’s feet were bloodied and his hands were shaking from the drugs that Hankel had pumped into him, but he had done it. He had defeated Hankel without their help. He took down a monster- his monster- all on his own, and the team had only showed up in time to dress his wounds.

Spencer has never needed other people to defend him, to make him brave- he’s done it all on his own.)

“I’ve had ten more years of experience than you, pretty boy. Trust me when I say I know some things.” Derek offers a hand in Spencer’s direction, and Spencer places his hand on Derek’s.  He squeezes quickly, tossing a reassuring glance in Derek’s direction, and then lets go. “See, Spence? I’m always here for you.”

“Thank you, Derek,” Spencer says quietly.

Derek flashes him a grin. “No problem, pretty boy. Now let’s go find Hotch.”

\--

“Mind if I drive?” Spencer asks when they get to the car, and Derek raises an eyebrow. Spencer can drive just fine, but he doesn’t tend to. He prefers to sit in the passenger seat and read whatever book he’s brought with him. It doesn’t take a profiler to see that Spencer’s still on edge after the whole elevator incident.

But Derek isn’t going to press- he knows when Spencer needs time in his own head, without outside pressure. He has moments like that, too. After some nightmares about Buford, Spencer sits by his side in silence, holding his hand, just  _ being  _ there. And it helps, it truly does.

So Derek sits there, in the passenger seat, and doesn’t say a word.

\---

“Fire, hanging, asphyxiation,” Hotch begins after Emily and Derek find the body in the river. He, JJ, and Spencer are at the command center while Emily and Derek are at the lake. “Now we've got a drowning.

“I think it's someone who's afraid of drowning,” Spencer contributes.

“What do you mean?” Hotch asks.

“Yeah, it hit me when Derek freaked out when we were stuck in the elevator.”

“You got stuck in an elevator?” Emily asks, and Derek has to defend his honor.

“ _ I _ freaked?” Derek protests, and then immediately thinks  _ shit. _ What happened in the elevator isn’t something he has a right to throw in Spencer’s face. It isn’t like Spencer not knowing how to flirt, or a missing a social cue- his panic attack in the elevator is tied to Hankel, and that’s not something to joke about.

“Well, that's not important,” Spencer dismisses, and Derek is more than happy to let him keep it that way. “Here's what is. If you look at the M.O.s of all the other victims, what do they all have in common? They could all be classified as anxiety disorders. It’s right out of the Diagnostics and Statistics Manual. It lists 5 subtypes of phobias.”

“Most of these are environmental  _ and  _ situational,” Hotch says.

“Exactly,” Spencer confirms.

“So it’s all about fear,” Hotch says, “These people are being killed by their fears.”

\---

“So,” Emily says, once they’re aboard the jet and flying away from that blood splatter on the pavement and yet another living grave. “What’re you all afraid of?” When everyone just stares at her for an instant, she offers: “I’ll go first, if you want. I have a fear of failure.” If she's going for honest, she'll be honest. She doesn't have to elaborate, after all, though she is sharing something personal with them. She trusts this team.

Spencer looks like he's deep in thought. Then he says, “Being buried alive,” and  _ boy _ can Emily understand. After what happened with Hankel, that one is easily explainable. What is an ordinary fear for any person off the street must be severely amplified in someone who was forced to dig his own grave.

“Losing the people I care about,” Derek says, looking straight at Spencer. Emily understands that he loves Spencer, that he is afraid of losing him. She wonders what it would be that in love with someone, to dread their loss like that. Once upon a time, she may have felt that way about Ian, but after everything that happened, she’s not sure if she’ll ever feel that way again.

Emily looks at each of her teammates in turn as they continue on down the line with their fears- spiders for JJ, and needles for Hotch. She hasn’t even known them for a year, and yet- they are her family.

To believe that just last month she’d been ready to leave them, and now- now, she couldn’t give them up for the world. She’d give anything for these friends of hers, these teammates she has gotten so attached to.

(It’s kind of terrifying how intense her feelings are for these people after only a year of working with them. She cares  _ so much  _ these people- how could that happen? After Doyle and what happened with him- how could she let herself be vulnerable like this gain?)

She can tell when they are strung tight, tension heavy, and it’s not because of the conversation at hand. Their nerves are wrung after the case they just had, and she wants to relieve that. And what better way to do that than with gossip?

“So, guys, let's talk about something happy,” Emily says, and Derek raises an eyebrow.

“You were the one who suggested talking about our fears,” Derek says.

“And now that that's over,” Emily dismisses, “And we’re still feeling down. We should talk about something less...depressing. For example- I met a new girl,” Emily says with a teasing smile. “She’s a doctor working at the hospital down the street.”

“You meet her there?” Derek asks with a teasing grin. “From one of your many trips?”

“As a matter of fact, no,” Emily says, rolling her eyes. “We met at a coffee shop a few weeks ago.”

JJ, on the other hand, is looking at her with wide eyes. “You’re interested in women?”

“Women and men, yes,” Emily replies, before realizing that  _ fuck _ , she just outed herself to her team. After a year of carefully not mentioning too much about her personal life, she just went and did this.

Then she looks at Derek and Spencer and knows that her teammates will be just fine with her- they’ve accepted and at times actively supported and encouraged Derek and Spencer’s relationship. Derek is openly bisexual and Spencer is- well, Emily’s not exactly sure, but she’s almost certain he’s attracted only to men.

“Then congrats,” JJ says, and that knot in Emily’s chest dissolves. She hadn’t even realized that it had been there until JJ accepted her. “That you found someone you like.”

“You sleep with her yet?” Derek asks, and Emily’s cheeks go warm.

“Not  _ yet _ ,” she says, “We haven’t even had our first date yet.” Emily’s no stranger to one night stands, but when she is interested in someone for more than just sex, she likes to take it a bit slower. Savannah is someone smart, kind, and interesting- she wants more than just sex with her.

(And besides, she doesn’t even know if Savannah’s interested yet. She certainly  _ hopes  _ that the way Savannah’s gaze sometimes drops to Emily’s lips or breasts when they’re talking means that she’s interested- but Emily’s certainly fallen for straight women and gay men before. It certainly wouldn’t be new if she was rejected.)

“Ooh, Prentiss is  _ really _ interested in this woman,” Derek says, and she surveys the way his leg is pressed so closely against Spencer’s, their hands resting on top of each others’ in a way that their body language indicates they’ve forgotten. She wonders what it would be like to be that in love with someone, to be able to be that casually affectionate. 

“Yeah,” Spencer says, “Statistics state that 67% of women who wait three months to have sex with their partners end up in a relationship lasting three or more years.”

Emily chuckles. Leave it up to Spencer Reid to think of something like that.

As the conversation putters out and the team breaks off into singles and couples to either sleep or talk quietly, Emily looks over at Spencer and Derek, at their hands so casually laid over each other’s. They aren’t being openly affectionate, acting lovey-dovey or anything of the sort. It’s almost like they don’t actively notice the comfort they’re taking in each other. She wants that, especially after everything that happened with Ian Doyle. She wants to feel comfortable with being in love, with physical affection beyond sex.

She just hopes that her coffeeshop doctor can do that for her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't know if I'm satisfied with the way this chapter's ending was written, but it does set up some future plots that will differ from the show, like Emily's future girlfriend, and continues with some specific to this fic, like Spencer still dealing with anxiety attacks over Hankel and Derek/Spencer's continued insecurities over their relationship.
> 
>  
> 
> (Also, that statistic about women waiting isn't entirely true. Sorry, anyone who trusted me on that one.)


	9. About Face (3.06/2.09)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for such a long wait. This chapter is mostly backstory and set-up for future arcs, rather than an eventful chapter in its own, so I didn't have much motivation to write it. It does, however, contain lots of kissing and cute Moreid moments as well as ROSSI FINALLY ARRIVING, so at least there's that. Hope you all enjoy!

_ “Now what else is the whole life of mortals, but a sort of comedy in which the various actors, disguised by various costumes and masks, walk on and play each one’s part until the manager walks them off the stage?” _

_ -Erasmus _

 

_ Even before Spencer and Derek began dating, Spencer spent far more time at Derek's apartment than his own. Whether that be because of their joint working on cases, playing games of Monopoly, or marathoning each other’s favorite shows. (Doctor Who for Spencer, and reruns of the Cosby Show for Derek.) They’re good friends who enjoy being in each other’s presence, and Spencer’s more than happy to spend most nights here and most weekends with JJ. These two people are his two best friends in the world, and after years of loneliness he would be content to spend the rest of his life in such a fashion. _

_ (The only nights where Spencer doesn’t come over are the nights where Derek is out on dates or having one night stands. Those nights, Spencer stays at home and does plenty of the same things he does at Derek’s: marathoning Doctor Who, working on case paperwork, reading old books, planning for his guest lectures.) _

_ Now that they're together, though, Spencer's apartment is like a ghost town. He spends nearly every evening at Derek's, mostly doing the same as he did when they were just friends. _

_ (Though there  _ is  _ a bit more kissing, Spencer does have to admit. That part is a welcome change.) _

_ He ends up sleeping on Derek's couch most of the time. Sometimes it’s on purpose, sometimes he just wakes up covered in the afghan Derek’s Aunt Yvonne knitted for him. Either way, he comes to view Derek's apartment as just as comfortable and usual a place to sleep as his own place. _

_ Both he and Derek like quiet dates together. Due to the high stress and unpredictability of their job, they can’t really make reservations for high class restaurants. Most of their dates are either to Botticelli’s or at home, and that suits them just fine. _

_ Life is good. They are doing a job they love, with the person they care for. They are spending their free time with said person, and life couldn't be better. _

_ So of course, with Spencer's luck, things have to change. _

_ “How do you feel about moving in together?” Derek asks one night in the middle of  _ Doctor Who _ , and Spencer blinks. Derek must take that as a cue of uncertainty, because he continues with: “I mean, it may seem a bit quick, but you spend most of your time here anyway and I feel much more comfortable the nights where you stay over. It would make everything a hell of a lot easier.” _

_ Spencer's apartment isn't a home, and he never truly tried to make it so. He isn't really attached to his apartment in any way- after all, the only thing he truly cares about in his apartment is his collection of books, and even that is something that he can easily separate from the apartment itself. _

_ The closest he's come to home in twenty five years is staring him in the face. This apartment, with a man who cares for him, is where he wants to stay. Moving in after dating for only nine months may seem a bit fast, but he knows this house well. He knows he'll love living here. _

_ “Sounds like a good idea,” Spencer says with a smile, and Derek’s face lights up. _

\---

Derek glances up and is assaulted by the face of a demon. He flinches away and is confronted by the sound of Spencer's laugh. “For fuck’s sake, Spence!”

“Happy all hallows eve, Folks,” Spencer says, pulling up his mask away from his face. “To paraphrase from Celtic mythology, tomorrow night all order is suspended and the barriers between the natural and the supernatural are temporarily removed!” He reaches into his bag and tosses a shrunken head on Emily's desk. “Hoo hoo hoo!”

“See, that right there is why Halloween creeps me out,” Derek says, pointing at the mask on Spencer's head.

“You're scared of halloween?” Spencer asks, curious.

“I didn't say I was scared, I said I was creeped out. There's a difference there, pretty boy."

“What creeps you out about it?”

“I don't know,” Derek says, leaning back. “People wearing masks- 'cept for you, pretty boy...well, I guess I just don't like folks in disguises.”

“That's the best thing about halloween,” Spencer says, “You can be anyone you want to be.”

Derek gives Spencer a sympathetic look, but still says, “Nah, I’m pretty good just being me.”

“Yeah, why is it that neither of those points of view surprise me?” Emily asks.

Derek grins. “You know what, though? On the flip side, it does give me an excuse to curl up with a scary flick and a little halloween honey,” Derek winks at Spencer, who blushes.

“I’m simultaneously creeped out and amused by your strange brand of flirting, Morgan,” Emily says, lips quirked up into a fond smile, and Derek starts to respond before Spencer cuts him off.

“Guys, that’s him,” Spencer says, tone full of awe as he yanks the mask away from his head completely. Derek turns to see David Rossi himself walking in.

-

_ By the end of the move in day, Spencer finds himself tired and sweaty. JJ and Penelope had been in and out throughout the day, JJ helping them move furniture and boxes and Penelope swinging by with lunch and decorating tips. _

_ He sets the last book on the bookshelf and heads over to the kitchen, where JJ’s sitting at the table (still Derek’s- Spencer brought in a few stools for the island in the kitchen and a new couch, but for the most part the furniture in the kitchen/living room is Derek’s) drinking a soda and Derek is standing at the counter, fixing himself a plate of chips and dip. _

_ When Spencer pulls off his cardigan, revealing a plain short-sleeved polo underneath, JJ whistles. “Never thought I’d see the day Spencer Reid started stripping!” she jokes, and behind her Derek winks at Spencer. Spencer blushes as he sits down and takes a sip of water. _

_ “Not a chance, JJ,” he says, and she faux-pouts. _

_ “Never had a chance with the illustrious Dr. Reid, did I?” _

_ He shakes his head, the faintest hint of a smile crossing his face. He’s asexual homoromantic and she is his best friend, almost his sister. “Not at all.”  _

_ “Yeah,” Derek agrees, sitting down at the table beside Spencer, plate in hand. “Not after I snatched his heart.” _

_ Spencer rolls his eyes. “You're being cheesy again.” _

_ Derek winks. “You love it.” _

_ “I do,” Spencer admits. _

_ - _

_ He goes to bed generally about an hour before Derek does. On the days when he used to  sleep on the couch, Derek would often be puttering about in the kitchen when Spencer fell asleep. _

_ So tonight, he finds himself laying down on the bed in his pajamas, book in hands. He has a routine- he’ll read a book or two before bed, and then curl up and fall asleep. _

_ So he does just that- or, at least he tries to. He reads his book just fine-  _ The Face of Battle  _ by John Keegan, always an interesting read- then curls up in bed, pulling the sheets up and trying to get comfortable. _

_ This is when things get hard.  _

_ The excitement of spending the day moving in wears off quickly, leaving him feeling hollow inside.  _

_ Spencer realizes a bit too late that he's never shared a bed with anyone besides his mom before. He’s never took up space in someone’s bedroom, occupied a spot on their bed. _

_ He’s never even  _ cuddled  _ with anyone save his mom before. Falling asleep on the sofa next to Derek that one time doesn’t count- Spencer’s head on Derek’s shoulder doesn’t equate to full body horizontal contact. _

_ Spencer curls up near the edge of the bed, trying to make himself take up as little space as possible. He wants to inconvenience Derek as little as possible. He desperately wants this arrangement to work. He really, sincerely, cares about Derek more than anyone before save his mother, and these are entirely different feelings than the ones he has for his mother. _

_ As he lays there, his breath gets shallower and his chest tighter as anxiety overwhelms him.  _

_ He wants this to work. This  _ has _ to work.  _

_ He doesn't know how he'll cope if this falls apart. _

_ - _

_ Derek enters the bedroom an hour after Spencer headed in to get changed and go to sleep. He isn’t expecting anything save Spencer fast asleep on his side of the bed, maybe babbling away in Spanish. (There have been enough nights that Derek has walked past the sofa and heard Spencer to know that.) _

_ His gaze falls on Spencer, who is curled up in a small ball on his side of the bed. Derek immediately frowns- he has never seen Spencer sleep in such a defensive position before. _

_ “Spencer?” Derek asks, “You okay?” _

_ Spencer’s eyes snap wide open and he sits up, posture rigid. “What? Yeah, I'm fine.” _

_ “Spence, you're obviously uncomfortable with this. I'll sleep on the couch for the first few days, okay, as we get used to sharing the apartment.” _

_ “You don’t have to do that-” Spencer begins, slipping out of bed. “I’ll take the sofa. I’m used to it. This is your apartment _ ,  _ Derek _ ,  _ I don’t want to force you out of your own bed.” _

_ “This is  _ our  _ apartment now, Pretty Boy,” Derek says, “Not just mine. This bed is as much yours as it is mine.” _

_ Spencer swallows. “That  _ is  _ a fair point,” he concedes, perching awkwardly on the edge of the bed. He still seems uncomfortable, but at least he is back to being on the bed, which he seemed really anxious about when Derek walked in. _

_ Derek sits down on the bed next to him. “This will only work if we trust each other, Spence, and that means communication. So...why do you feel uncomfortable?” _

_ Spencer blushes. “I’ve never slept with someone other than my mom before.” _

_ Derek’s eyes widen. “Real-” He stops in the middle of the question. “That makes sense, nevermind.” _

_ Spencer nods. “So, this is new. And I don't really do new things.” _

_ “Something to do with your dislike of surprises?” _

_ “Yeah,” Spencer admits, “Something along those lines.” _

_ “Well, you trust me, right?” _

_ Spencer nods vigorously. If there's anything he's certain about- other than the heliocentric system or the exact intricacies of Jeffrey Dahmer’s crimes- it's that he trusts Derek Morgan with everything he has. _

_ “Then trust me now. Sharing a bed with someone may seem like a level of intimacy a bit too intense for now, but it isn't too intimate a scenario. We're going to be clothed, and this doesn't necessarily have to be a romantic thing. It can just be a trust thing.” _

_ And if you're not ready, then you're not ready. And that's okay.” Derek places a hand on Spencer's knee. _

_ “It's all up to you, Spence. I want this to feel like your home, too, because it is, and I'm not going to do anything you're not comfortable with. I don't want you to feel uncomfortable here.” _

_ Spencer takes a deep breath. He wants to feel comfortable here, in this place that he is now living in. He wants to be more trusting and intimate with Derek in the ways that he can feel comfortable with. “Okay,” he says.  _

_ They lay down under the covers, and Derek doesn't reach out to cuddle Spencer like he was originally planning to. Instead, he just lays by Spencer's side, the blankets between them. _

_ For a moment, they don't think. Instead, they just lay there, half way between awkwardness and comfort. _

_ Eventually Spencer begins to relax, tension seeping from his muscles as he grows accustomed to this bed-sharing thing. It’s not that bad, truly. _

_ “How did you get so good at this comfort thing?” Spencer asks, and Derek grins. _

_ “I've had a lot of experience.” _

-

Once on the jet, Spencer drops into the seat next to Derek. Derek turns and places an almost automatic kiss on Spencer’s cheek.

“Hey, pretty boy,” he greets Spencer.

Spencer rolls his eyes. “You really need to work on that pet name, Derek.”

Derek winks. “You know you love it, don’t pretend.”

As they continue to flirt, Dave raises an eyebrow. “We  _ definitely _ didn’t have that ten years ago.”

“Yeah,” Hotch says, fond smile belying his words, “I’d have to agree with that.”

“I think it’s an improvement,” Emily says, a faux-haughty tone to her voice.

“Yeah,” JJ says with a smirk as she parrots Hotch’s words, “And I’d have to agree with that.”

“Coming out of retirement is certainly going to be interesting,” Dave says as he picks a file up out the pile.

-

_ “So,” Emily says, “You and Reid are a thing?” _

_ Derek blinks. He’s honestly a bit confused- he and Spencer aren’t too obviously affectionate in public, but they’re not exactly trying to hide their relationship either. _

_ “Yeah, we are,” he says, “That a problem?” _

_ “Not at all,” Emily says, and lets out a small snort. “Trust me, unless it interferes with the job, I have no problem with same-sex relationships.” _

_ Derek thinks he detects a personal note to what she's saying. There's something she's hiding that she's not sharing. He has a general feeling of what it is, but he’s not going to pry. _

_ But he can wait to find out. Emily is new, and they have a rule against profiling teammates. He wants to trust her unless he has a good reason not to, and right now, she hasn’t given him one. _

-

Coming out of the restroom, Spencer overhears two officers talking. He recognizes the voices as two that spoke when the team gave out the profile earlier. He pauses, not wanting to interrupt them.

“Those two agents,” the female says, “They’re in a relationship.”

_ Oh _ , Spencer thinks, surprised,  _ They’re talking about Derek and I. _

“Which ones?” the male voice says, “The black guy and the brunette girl? They seemed kind of close.”

Spencer tries not to laugh. Emily and Derek? That relationship would crash and burn within a few weeks.

(Then again, that is what he’d thought would happen with him and Derek, and look at him now.)

“No,” she says, “The skinny boy and the black guy.”

The guy makes a noise of disgust. “The guy had all those gorgeous women to pick and he went with that scrawny little androgy-nerd?” He scoffs, “What a waste.”

Spencer’s heart is doing something uncomfortable now, something Spencer doesn’t quite like. He thinks it has to do with hearing his own doubts being voiced aloud by other people, albeit crudely.

"Yeah," the female says, "I wouldn't pick that guy in a million years. All he's done is rattle off facts." She snorts. "Wonder if he does it in bed too."

Several disturbing, sexual images flash through Spencer's head, pictures that he instantly discards. Instead he replaces them with the night in Jamaica, their first kiss, and every happy moment where Derek affirmed that he cared for Spencer more for his personality than his body. He takes a deep breath, steadying himself, and walks out in front of the two cops. They both glance at him, words drying up, and Spencer just walks past.

He compartmentalizes, as usual, placing the incident in the back of his mind as he focuses on the case. Their comments aren’t important. They don’t mean anything.

-

_ They tumble into bed after a Wednesday night bar trip, at least tipsy if not flat-out drunk. Hands go everywhere- hair, shoulders, torso- and their kisses are sloppy. Derek’s shirtless- a sight that, while Spencer can appreciate is well-toned and objectively attractive, inspires no sexual desires within him- and Spencer’s not, electing to keep his polo on. _

_ Then Derek’s hands travel below the waist and Spencer freezes, alcohol haze vacating his mind quicker than the Allies evacuated Dunkirk. “Derek,” says, careful to keep his neutral, but Derek instantly catches his unease and sits up. _

_ “Right, pretty boy,” he says, “Sorry ‘bout that.” _

_ “It’s fine,” Spencer says, and it is. Spencer’s not entirely sex repulsed- he just has no desire to pursue the subject. _

_ “Good,” Derek says. He falls onto his back and rolls over until he’s facing Spencer. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.” _

_“You didn't,” Spencer tries to assure him, and Derek gives him a_ come-the-fuck-on look _. “Okay,” Spencer says, “Maybe a little. But you pulled back, and that's what counts.” He gives Derek a small smile. “We can go back to kissing, if you want.”_

Please _ , Spencer thinks,  _ Please let's go back to it. Then we can just forget about this entire incident and you won't have doubts about whether you want to be in a relationship with someone who can't give you what you want.

_ “Only if you're comfortable with it,” Derek says, being as attentive and kind as usual, and Spencer wonders how he got so lucky as to find Derek. “I don't want to force anything.” _

_ “Of course,” Spencer says, and pulls Derek in for another kiss. _

\---

As soon as the Unsub is taken away by the police, Spencer launches himself in Derek’s direction. He grabs Derek’s hand, looks him over with a mix of concern and frustration.

“You nearly got shot, Derek!” Spencer says, “What were you thinking, not looking as you came out of the elevator?”

“Whoa, pretty boy,” Derek says, “That’s all Rossi and Hotch’s fault. Don’t blame me.”

Spencer sighs. “I know. That doesn’t stop me from worrying, though.”

Derek grins. “Aw, Spence, you were worried?”

“You idiot,” Spencer says, “I’m always worried.”

 

As the two stroll off bickering, Dave turns to Hotch.

“I've been meaning to ask,” he says, “But I thought, and correct me if I'm wrong, that there was a rule against intra-team dating.”

“Technically there is,” Hotch says, “But it's there for a reason that doesn't quite apply here. The rule exists so that agents don't get distracted or put other agents above the case. Reid and Morgan don't have that issue- if anything, they're  _ too _ hyper vigilant about not putting each other over the case. Last year, there was actually an incident where Reid was going through something and didn't tell Morgan about what was going on for fear of distracting from the case. He ended up telling me after the whole thing was over.

And besides, both of them are much happier together. You wouldn't be able to see it as much now, but before they started dating both never opened themselves up to anyone, had incredible trust issues, and had a hard time telling anyone if something was wrong.

Reid covered it up with his intellect and Morgan by his flirting and easy-going attitude, but it existed in both of them. Since they've been together, however, they've been more open with the team and able to trust us more. That's something far more useful to this team than any original intent the rule may have had.”

Dave nods. “Okay, Aaron.”

Hotch raises an eyebrow. “No argument? No passive-aggressive insult to the way this team works as opposed to the old one?”

Dave shrugs. “You're unit chief. You're in charge. I'm not saying I'm not going to butt heads with you in things related to the cases, but when it comes to the team they're yours and you know what works.” He smiles slightly. “And besides, I'm not going to begrudge anyone happiness in love if they can find it.”

“So no problems with the whole... homosexuality issue?”

Dave snorts. “Aaron, don't you remember SSA Donny LaRosseau?

Hotch raises an eyebrow. “What about him? He was the closest thing you had to a best friend back in the day-”

“-and  _ very _ gay. He's living in Seattle with his partner Sean nowadays. My only issue was if it would interfere with the job or not, and it clearly doesn't."

"Alright, then,” Hotch says, and then smiles. “It's good to have you back, Dave.”

“Your team's style is going to take some getting used to, but you're right- it's good to be back.”

-

 

_ “Spencer?” Derek asks, “What’s your favorite song?” _

_ Spencer glances up from the book he’s reading- the title’s in German, but Derek vaguely remembers Spencer mentioning something about Nietzsche. He's sitting in a position Derek swears has got to be hella uncomfortable, with one slack-clad leg pulled up to his chest while the other sits in half of a criss-cross-applesauce position, and beneath his thick glasses his expression is confused. “What?” _

_ “I know your favorite genre is classical music,” Derek says, “You’ve mentioned plenty of times that it’s beneficial to the brain and all, but what are your favorite songs? Preferably ones that were written after 1900.” _

_ “I have two favorite songs,” Spencer says, for two very different reasons. “The first is Bella Notte.” _

_ “From Lady and the Tramp?” Derek asks. A strange choice for a favorite song, but if it holds significant childhood importance, then no wonder. _

_ Spencer nods. “My mom and I used to watch old Disney movies together when I was a little kid, before my father left. She insisted that we couldn't watch any movies that came out after 1970, and therefore the number of kids movies we could watch were limited. And besides, I just really liked it. The lyrics are gender neutral and not really sexually motivated at all, yet still feel mature. They also provoke a certain sense of nostalgia and sense of family as I first learned the song when my parents were still together and my mother's schizophrenia was far less pronounced.” _

_ “Then my second favorite song is  _ Tender  _ by Blur. It came out when I was working on my first PhD. I was 19 and it came on the radio in my dorm room. I didn’t typically listen to radio music, but my roommate was a big fan of Britpop and so the radio was on near constant. Normally I didn’t really pay attention, but something about the melody of the song stuck with me. I ended up looking up the lyrics and they meant a lot to me.” _

_ Derek is unfamiliar with the song Spencer is talking about, but he recognizes Spencer’s expression when he speaks about it. His expression is nostalgic, wistful,  _ happy,  _ even more than when he spoke of Bella Notte. _

_ “Do you have a copy of it? On CD or something?” _

_ “Actually, yeah, I think so,” Spencer says, closing his book and sitting it down on the coffee table. He heads over to the bookshelves and, thanks to the alphabetical organization, can go directly to the location of...an actual vinyl record?  _

_ Derek nearly chuckles. Spencer never seizes to surprise him. _

_ “The record player’s got to be around here somewhere,” Spencer mutters, and once again, to Derek’s surprise, Spencer actually pulls out a small portable record player. Within a couple of minutes, he has the record player plugged in and charging and the record playing. _

_ A quiet instrumental starts, and Spencer begins to hum along, a soft smile on his face. Derek could stare at that smile every day for the rest of his life, he loves it that much. _

_ “ _ Tender is the night, lying by your side,”  _ the lyrics start as Spencer sits back down. _

_ Derek, on the other hand, has different ideas. He stands up and offers a hand to Spencer. “Alright, then,” Derek says, “Wanna dance?” _

_ Spencer’s eyes widen. “Me?” he asks, bewildered. _

_ Derek chuckles. “Who else?” _

_ “I can’t dance,” Spencer protests, but Derek just takes his hand and pulls him up gently from the chair. _

_ “I’ll teach you,” Derek says. _

_ “Okay,” Spencer says, “I trust you. Let’s go.” _


	10. Lucky (3.08)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek Morgan character development, bitches.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a note: if the kissing scene looks familiar, it was adapted a bit from a drabble I wrote that I posted a few days ago.

_“Your faith is your conscience, and your conscience is your faith. You cannot have faith without a conscience, but you can have a conscience without faith. Man was designed to be good with or without religion.”_

_-Suzy Kassem_

 

Serial killers are always challenging to deal with, but they just get harder when Derek has to deal with cannibalism and religion on top of it.

There are reasons why Derek doesn't go to church, though, and very few of them have to do with serial killers. Most of them have to do with being a teenager and being so, _so_ alone, despite the preacher who was supposed to be there for a kid to turn to.

-

"What happened to you?" The priest asks Derek, eyes wide and concerned. Well, Derek doesn't care about whatever concern this stranger has for what drove Derek away from God. "Only someone who grew up with religion could have so much contempt for a priest he hardly knows."

Derek swallows, choking back decades of resentment. "When I was a kid, something bad was happening to me. And I went to church every day, and I prayed. Oh, I prayed for it to stop." Derek's anger burns inside of him, threatening to light up a path that takes him back to a prison in Chicago where Carl Buford will be locked up for the rest of his life. "You know what God did? Nothin'."

The priest's tone is calm, almost patronizing, and Derek hates it. "He never gives us more than we can handle."

Derek swallows, those fucking tears threatening to burn the backs of his eyes. "Your god expects way too much of 13-year-old boys."

And then he turns and leaves.

-

"Derek," Spencer says, placing a hand on Derek's wrist, "Do you need to talk?"

Derek hadn't realized that he'd been so uncomfortable that he was showing it. (Or maybe he hadn't, and Spencer just knows him too well. Either way, he doesn't like letting his personal issues become a distraction from the case.) _No,_ he means to say, but what comes out is: "Not right now."

Spencer nods. "Okay," he says, immediately accepting Derek's request, "We'll talk later."

Derek gives him a fragile smile. "Thank you."

-

God has never been something Derek has ever been able to wrap his mind around. Psychology, obsession, explosions built of chemicals and tools- these things make sense. An all-benevolent god? That doesn't fit into anything Derek has seen of the universe.

There is good in this world, yes. There are good things and good actions and good people. Derek knows some of the best- Spencer and his kind smile, Penelope and her bright knickknacks, Hotch and his fond eyes, Emily and her suggestions to hand out candy to children. He would not give these beautiful, good people up, ever.

But an all-powerful, all-good God would not let things like serial killers and rapists and Carl Buford exist.

(Derek knows what it's like to pray for answers and receive nothing in return. He knows what it's like to spend nights kneeling beside beds, in pews, anywhere he could possibly pray, and still have to go back to the bad touch the next day.)

His parents' god, this preacher's God, has never liked boys like him and Spencer. God has never cared about boys who pray for the bad touch to stop, for their mother to think right. He's never cared for girls who pray for their sister to come back from the dead, for the desire to kiss other girls to go away.

God's never believed in him. So why should he believe in god?

-

They catch the killer who did all of this, but not before he makes an entire community party to the worst possible crime that Derek can imagine.

Derek sees something shatter inside that priest that day, and he can't say that he feels in any way satisfied. No one deserves to have their faith in humanity broken so dramatically.

-

Doing this job, you learn to compartmentalize the worst of crimes. Things that would break you if you thought too long about them- well, you learn to shove them aside. If they don't personally affect you- if you aren't the one being tortured, raped, assaulted- then you learn to shrug them off.

(And even the ones that  _do_ personally affect you agents will try to push aside as soon as possible. The memories haunt, nightmares clawing at your brain, and so you try not to think about them. You try to ignore the nights where you wake up, lips bloody from where you bite them in the middle of the night in order to keep from screaming. You try to make yourself compartmentalize, try to bury the memories, try to erase the emotions from your mind.)

So that's what Derek tries to do with this case. He tries to forget it, to forget the taste of beef stew, to ignore the implications of what that lunatic may have made that entire town partake in. He (selfishly) thanks his lucky stars that the team hadn't eaten any of the food handed out as they were too busy organizing and directing the search parties.

Once the case is wrapped, he goes to the restroom, splashes some water on his face, and looks at himself in the mirror. He takes in the familiar sights of his brown eyes, that one scar under his ear where he had to get stitches in second grade, the dark eyebrows above his eyes. His gaze traces over every element of his face that belong to him, that he has known longer than any other's.

He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes as he pushes back the thoughts of the case, instead just trying to focus on the world he knows as his own. He focuses on thoughts of his apartment back home, of Clooney and Spencer and his sisters and Momma. He thinks of Chinese take-out, late night trips to Botticelli's, and curling up to watch  _Doctor Who_ and football.

(Derek does not think about a man with a face and hands covered in blood, laughing maniacally as a pastor lunges across a table. He does not think about beef stew, or a forest, or pentagrams and an underground lair. He does not think of-)

"Derek?" A familiar voice asks, and Derek opens his eyes to find Spencer standing behind him, a look of concern on his face. "You all good?"

Derek isn't sure how he wants to respond. Does he want to be open and honest with Spencer?

Well, of course he does- communication is key to relationships- but he knows himself and his own thinking processes. 

"Good enough," Derek says, and he's not really lying. In a few minutes, after he's finished processing and compartmentalizing everything, he'll be back to his normal, charming self.

Spencer, however, doesn't let go of everything so easy. He steps further into the bathroom, loafers plodding quietly against the floor tiles until he is standing next to Derek, looking at their reflections in the mirror.

Spencer's stance is remarkably calm, his eyes clear as he stands next to Derek. "You said you wanted to talk later," he says, "Is this 'later' enough?" 

Are these thoughts even that big an issue? Does he really need to trouble Spencer with small issues like this? He's dealing with everything pretty well, just as he's dealt with stuff on his own for years. He's a well-adjusted adult who doesn't need other people to help him through his issues. He's a strong person who has spent his entire life trying to be as strong as possible to take care of the people he loves.

"Derek," Spencer says, placing a hand on Derek's shoulder. "You told me I could come to you with any problems. Well, right now I'm promising you can do the same with me. You can trust me, Derek. Let me be here for you."

Derek doesn't turn to face Spencer. There's something reassuring, something less terrifying about facing a reflection rather than an actual person. He's talking to Spencer, yes, but there is somehow a layer of distance between them. He doesn't feel like he's admitting to all of his weakness, if he isn't facing Spencer dead-on.

(Maybe it's cowardly, but it makes him feel at least somewhat better in sharing his feelings. He's never been a sharing-his-feelings kind of guy- he's always been a helping-others-with-their-feelings-while-dealing-with-his-own-feelings-on-his-own kind of guy.)

"I-" For the first time since he can remember, Derek actually fucking  _stutters_. And he winces. Fuck. "I don't like thinking about my childhood. And talking to the priest brought up bad memories I don't want to dwell on."

"That's understandable," Spencer agrees. "Generally speaking, it's not beneficial to trigger bad memories for survivors of trauma."

Despite himself, Derek smiles. He said _survivor,_ not  _victim._ Spencer is always there for him in his own way, comforting Derek in a far different manner than anyone else would ever think to try. And it  _works_ \- and rather well, to be honest. 

"Thanks, pretty boy," Derek says, "You're really good at this whole comfort thing."

"I learned from the best," Spencer says as he turns to face Derek, but Derek keeps looking at the mirror, keeps staring at the picture of the two of them next to each other. Here, in this random Floridian bathroom, it is just the two of them. There are no cannibals or serial killers here, just Derek and the man he loves. "I love you, Derek," Spencer says, "And I hate seeing you hurt."

Derek turns to face Spencer, an eyebrow raised. "What did you just say?"

Spencer goes still. "Oh god. I didn't mean for that to come out- please tell me it didn't make you uncomfortable-"

Derek grins. "Not at all."

"Then I said-" Spencer swallows, gaze flicking nervously around the room before alighting on Derek's face. "I said I love you."

The words are easy to say. They rise to his lips as smoothly as Spencer's name does. There are definitely some things that Derek feels hesitation telling Spencer, but this is not one of them. "I love you too, Spence." 

He then places his right hand on Spencer's cheek and leans in, pressing a kiss to his lips. Spencer's right hand goes to his waist, pulling Derek's body in closer. Derek happily lets Spencer lead for once.

Now, this- this is something Derek has always loved. His lips against Spencer's, their bodies together, the comfort that Spencer always guarantees-

(Kissing Spencer is like looking over the side of a cruise ship in the middle of the night, watching the waves roll by and disappear into the surface of a glass-like sea lit only by moonlight. Kissing him is knowing logically that this is a giant force carving chasms into the water below it, but only feeling the vibrations that are symptoms of the larger change.)

As they kiss, they shift positions slightly. Spencer's hands drift to Derek's back as one of Derek's hands drifts to Spencer's hair. Spencer’s hair is soft under Derek’s hands, and Derek can feel the back of his own shirt being mushed between Spencer’s fingers. As they trade slow, languid kisses, he lets the echo of bad memories fade into the background. He just focuses on the feeling of Spencer's lips under his, the feeling of his solid muscles against Derek’s body.

God, does he love this man.

“You're so beautiful,” he mutters into the corner of Spencer's mouth.

Spencer's mouth turns into a smile under Derek's lips. “You too, Derek.”

-

(Derek doesn't think about the fact that Spencer would have easily remembered:

The most famous of passenger ship of all time spent its most famous night travelling peacefully through what was described as “a sea as smooth as glass.” There was no danger in sight- there was a band playing, dances occurring, hope in the air.

And then it hit an iceberg.)

-

There is one other good thing that comes from being in Florida, land of alligators and fringe groups and murderers, and that's this: JJ and that detective from New Orleans making out on the far side of the precinct after the case has been finished.

“Finally,” Emily says from her, Derek, and Spencer's position in the hallway.

“Yeah, I never thought she was going to admit it,” Spencer says.

“What’s it been, like a year?” Derek asks.

“Eleven months, three days, and four hours since New Orleans,” Spencer answers as they clear away, giving JJ and Will some unspoken privacy.

“How long did it take you guys to come out to the team?” Emily asks.

“Elle and JJ figured it out on their own, JJ with a little prompting a week in and Elle on her own,” Spencer answers. “Gideon claimed he saw it coming years before we actually got together, and Hotch-” He grins.

“Hotch found out when pretty boy here nearly got himself shot on a train. When Spence came out, I was a little relieved-”

“A little relieved, Derek?” Spencer asks, “You made out with me in front of Hotch.”

“Okay, so maybe a bit more than relieved,” Derek admits, “But who wouldn’t be, if you’re the one they’re worried about?”

“So you’ve always been this in love?” Emily asks, and they halt in their tracks, turning to look at her. She raises an eyebrow. “The moment you just talked about- not only the actual events, your feelings at the the time, but how you just spoke of it now. The fond looks on your faces, the way you managed to flirt with each other through retelling the story- you’re so in love I’m _jealous_. I want someone who looks at me the way you two look at each other- like you’re looking at the most precious thing in the world.”

“We look at each other like that?” Spencer asks, voice a bit small, and Emily nods.

“It’s no wonder JJ, Gideon, and Greenaway figured it out so quickly- the strange thing is that Hotch didn’t,” Emily says.

“He had his own relationship drama at the time,” Derek says, “Can’t really expect him to have noticed.”

“You guys are twice as obvious as JJ- and she skips out on us every other weekend. There’s no way you weren’t glaringly obvious back then.”

“I’m sure we weren’t as obvious back then as we are now,” Derek says.

Emily scoffs. “Really? Are you shitting me?” She pulls out her phone, dials something, and hits a button.

A moment later, Penelope’s voice filters out: “Speak, humble mortal, and entreat the oracle of all knowledge with your plight.”

“Garcia, how obviously in love were Reid and Morgan when they first got together?”

Penelope laughs. “Girl, let me tell you a thing. My chocolate Adonis and my gorgeous nerd boy were more in love than Rose and the Doctor, than Kirk and Spock, than Romeo and Juliet, than Belle and her prince Adam-”

“Okay, Baby Girl,” Derek says with a chuckle, “I think that’s enough.”

“Anything for my dark-haired siren, my chocolate demigod, and my real-life Prince Milo.”

“Prince Milo?” Spencer mouths, brows knitting together in confusion, but Derek's seen _Atlantis_ and he has to agree.

“Bye, Garcia,” Emily says with a smile.

“Adios, my IRL Martha Jones,” Penelope says, hanging up. 

“Well, one good turn deserves another, Prentiss,” Derek says, smirk growing on his lips. “How’s your coffee doctor coming?”

Emily’s cheeks redden slightly. “Just fine, thank you,” she says.

“Asked her out yet?” Derek asks.

“No, not that it’s any of your business, Morgan.”

“Not to argue, but you just spent five minutes interrogating Penelope and asking us about our relationship,” Spencer points out. "So it would be slightly hypocritical to tell us not to ask about your own romantic relationships."

“I thought you were the one who wasn't supposed to be able to apply your logic to relationships."

Spencer shrugs. "I've been in one for one year, nine months, and six days," Spencer says, "I may not always understand it, but something of my logic must be working."

"Definitely right about that," Derek agrees. 

Emily groans. "You two just can't help yourselves, can you?"

Derek smirks. "Nope, Prentiss- and you just spent the last five minutes proving that to us, so you can't complain."

"But on a completely different subject- and I apologize for the topic change," Spencer says, "I was wondering if you'd like to hang out with us outside of work, Prentiss."

Emily raises an eyebrow. "Right now, Reid? We're still in Florida, and it's about one in the morning."

Spencer purses his lips. He didn't mean to make her assume _now_ , but he probably said something socially incorrect. "This weekend," Spencer says, "You want to come over to watch whatever game is on?"

"Football, Pretty Boy," Derek corrects gently, a fond smile on his face. "And don't you usually invite JJ over for that sort of thing?"

"JJ looks like she'll be staying here for a few days," Spencer says, "And besides, I think it'd be great for you to come over, Prentiss."

"I'd love to come over and watch the game, Reid," Emily says. "Though I'm pretty sure Derek doesn't want me coming because he knows my team is going to win."

"Bullshit, Prentiss," Derek says, "Everyone knows that the Bears will win."

Emily smirks. "I thought you didn't like the Bears, Morgan."

"I'm going to go head to the jet," Spencer says, cutting into the conversation, and Derek turns to see his boyfriend smiling at them both. "I need sleep and want to get a headstart on rereading  _In Search of Lost Time._ Meet you two at the airport, if you ever decide to stop debating the merits of different groups of men running from one end of a field to the other, tossing around a lemon-shaped ball."

"You love it, don't deny," Derek teases, wrapping an arm around Spencer's shoulders, and Spencer blinks at him.

"I love  _your_ passion for the sport, but I don't love the sport."

"I'll take it," Derek says, giving Spencer a quick kiss on the cheek.

"But we can hold off on the smack talk until Saturday," Emily says, "We should all get back to the jet."

"No arguments here," Derek agrees, and they all head out.

-

In the jet that evening, the boys are all asleep. JJ stayed behind in Florida- she said something about spending time with an old friend, but they all know the real reason.

Emily is still awake, thoughts keeping her from falling into the same slumber as the rest of them. For once, the thoughts haunting her aren't ones of murder- instead, they are of the woman from the coffeeshop.

Emily sucks in a breath. This shouldn’t take as much courage as she’s having to use. She’s seen the happiness that relationships can give people- what they’ve given Spencer and Derek, JJ and Will, Hotch and Haley. She wants that. She doesn’t want to be afraid of failure.

 

**To: Coffeeshop Doc**

**You want to meet up for breakfast when I get back from this case? I’ll be back around five.**

 

Emily presses **send** before she can really think about it, then spends the next few minutes trying to read the next few pages of the Spanish-language edition of the Miami Herald before her phone pings. She grabs for it and opens the text, breathing a sigh of relief when she sees what the response is.

 

**From: Coffeeshop Doc**

**Sounds like a great idea! I just got off my shift- we can meet up around seven at the cafe, if you won’t be too tired.**

 

Emily looks over at Spencer and Derek. Spencer's sitting on the jet sofa, Derek's sleeping head in his lap. Spencer has a book in his right hand and his left hand is placed on Derek's head, fingers rubbing lightly where they'd be carding through anyone else's hair if Derek's head wasn't shaved. It's incredibly domestic, so fucking casual it almost makes her heart hurt.

And Emily wants a chance at that so bad.

So fuck it, she's throwing caution to the wind. A little risk is worth it.

 

**To: Coffeeshop Doc**

**I'll be there.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My man Derek's decided to get all internal-monologue on me, and it may be screwing with my long-term chapters and scenes but fuck, I like it.
> 
>  
> 
> Also, these boys have *got* to stop kissing in every chapter. Or wait, have they? Lemme check...


	11. Girls/Girls/Boys (7.05, Functions as: 3.08-3.09)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Self indulgent fluff + banter with some relationship development for Prentiss and a smidge of angst, but still, mostly fluff. I wanted a fluff chapter- fight me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title is from song of the same name by Panic! at the Disco.
> 
>  
> 
> Also, this is the first of a few chapters that have been moved from their original order in the show to better fit plot/character development as it occurs in this fic. Hope y'all still enjoy this!

_“_ _Friends are the family you choose.”_

_-Jess C. Scott_

 

"Four pair of shoes."

"How exactly is that relevant?"

"C'mon, pretty boy, how many women you know only have four pairs of shoes in their closet?"

"My experience in and around women's closets are limited to that of JJ and my mother, neither of which are probably ready indicators of normal women's closets."

"Right," Derek says. Homoromantic with little relationship experience until this one, which Spencer's been in for nearly two years. Not much chance of having seen the inside of women's closets. "Well, the answer's at least nine- you have my word on that."

Spencer looks at him a bit quizzically before saying, “I’ll take your word for it.”

-

Spencer recognizes all of his symptoms in this witness- it's almost like looking through a mirror back at the weekend he spent detoxing, crying and shaking in Derek's arms as he suffered the withdrawal from the Dilaudid.

"Ms. Raynor, I don't mean to offend you, but what drug are you addicted to? You're going through withdrawal."

Throughout the entire conversation, even as Spencer catalogues her responses, he can't help but watch her fidget. Is this what his detox looked like from the outside? He doesn't remember much beside the burn of craving, the fatigue that came from the drug vacating his body after so long, and a blur of reactions from him.

Derek can't help but observe a number of the same things about the woman- but from the perspective of a non-addict rather than the addict. He studies her from the perspective of someone who had to help support their partner, their best friend, through a detox.

And he feels sorry for her.

-

"How about ten pairs of shoes?" Spencer asks after the case as they’re entering HQ again, "Surely that has to be enough."

"Uh, Spencer," JJ says, "It's different with the ladies. We need them to match our belts, our handbags, our skirts. And fashions change with the seasons, too."

"Yes," Penelope complains, "Boys are so boring. Pants, shoes, and out the door."

"It's not like men don't have their things," Emily says, "I dated a golfer once- he had ten putters in his closet."

"An old boyfriend of mine had fifteen ascots in differing shades of orange to go with different outfits," Derek says.

"Now _that's_ weird," Emily says, and turns to Penelope. "But this conversation is reminding me I need new boots."

"They're having a sale at the mall on those tall-shaft kitten heels you like," Penelope says as she follows Emily into the bullpen, "You want to go?"

Derek catches Spencer, putting a hand on his shoulder before he goes on. "You getting all this, pretty boy?"

"No," Spencer says incredulously, "How did you even keep up with this kind of stuff when you were dating other people?"

"Lots and lots of practice," Derek says, "But every relationship means learning about what's important to your partner, even if that thing _is_ heels."

Spencer raises an eyebrow. "Is that really why you watch Doctor Who with me?"

"To be honest? At first, yeah." Derek grins. "But it's grown on me."

"Enough to go to ComiCon with me and Garcia?"

"Not _that_ much, pretty boy. The people who attend those things are more insane than most of the killers we profile- present company excluded, of course."

Spencer smiles. "Didn't think you would. It is nice to hear you admit your crush on Ten, though personally I'm a Nine guy." Derek opens his mouth to respond but Spencer continues: "And don't worry, I may not know anything about women's closets but I do know that you love me more than Ten's trench coats."

"Oh, I don't know," Derek says. "He does have one wonderful mind _and_ a fantastic head of hair."

Penelope pokes her head back out. "Sounds like you're describing tall and brilliant here," she says. "Also, Derek, my smoking hot Lamborghini, flirt with your boy later. We're dragging you on a shopping trip."

Spencer smirks. "Have fun, Derek."

"Oh, you're coming with, boy genius," Penelope says, and Spencer's smirk disappears.

Derek smirks instead. "Ready for your first shopping trip with the girls, pretty boy?"

Spencer scratches behind his ear a bit nervously. "Am I going to survive this?"

"'Bout a 75% chance," Penelope says and winks.

"Derek," Spencer says, turning to his boyfriend, "If I die, I bequeath my entire collection of Doctor Who memorabilia to Ethan, not either of you."

Penelope gasps. "Even the collector's edition Four's TARDIS model?"

Spencer nods gravely. "Even the TARDIS model."

Penelope looks at Derek. "We cannot let the gorgeous encyclopedia die under any circumstances, my bisexual boytoy. That TARDIS is _mine._ "

Derek slings an arm around Spencer's shoulder. "Don't worry, gorgeous boyfriend of mine, I'll protect you from the deadly women's fashions."

Spencer rolls his eyes. "More like I'll protect you from Garcia's wrath."

Penelope nods. "Too true, boo."

Derek leans in and presses a quick kiss to the corner of Spencer's mouth. "After all the psychopaths I've protected you from, saving me from Baby Girl will be a welcome change."

"Excuse me, Derek? Who saved himself from nearly being buried alive? Who saved your ass from serial killers multiple times by talking them down or profiling them in time?" Spencer ignores Penelope's giggle. "Hmm, Derek Morgan?"

Derek holds up his hands in surrender. "Okay, pretty boy, we've both saved each others' asses plenty of times."

“That's what I thought.”

\---

It is many hours and a few margaritas later that Spencer finds himself in the booth in the corner of an Applebee's, legs tucked up against Derek's as he reads _Le Deuxième Sexe_ again. The girls sit across the table from them, and Spencer only pays half-attention to them, preferring to bury himself in a book after the trauma of that shopping trip.

“You know who's really cute?” Emily asks, and Spencer can feel Derek shrug against his shoulder.

“Who?” JJ asks, taking the bait, and Emily grins.

“That detective from the New Orleans case. Oh, what was his name again…?”

“Will LaMontagne.” JJ says. Something in her voice is tentative, almost like she has something she wants to say, to tell them.

“Out with it, JJ,” Spencer says, looking up from his book, and she glances up at him, cheeks still flushed with alcohol. “We all know that you're with Detective LaMontagne.”

JJ’s eyes widen in shock, but then, a resigned smile curving her lips: “Profilers, right.”

“Nope,” Derek says, grabbing a chip from the basket. “Just your friends. And you've been sneaking out for weekends.”

“Okay, fine,” JJ admits, but before she lets in any more comments about her own romantic life she adds, “But if we’re discussing people’s sex lives, we can’t forget Prentiss and her crush.”

“Ooh!” Penelope squeals, “Tell us more!” Spencer realizes that she wasn’t on the plane either time Emily dared to venture forth that piece of information about her romantic life.

Emily, tongue loosened by a few margaritas, blushes. “I like a girl, that’s all.”

“You’re _gay_?” Penelope bursts, eyes wide, and Emily’s brow furrows.

“No, I’m bi,” she corrects. “Got a problem?”

Penelope giggles a bit awkwardly. “Of course not- my best friend is bi, I’d be a bit hypocritical if I didn’t approve, right? I just didn’t realize you were interested in girls, that’s all. Just lemme chop up hetero Emily in my mind for a minute and then give me all the deets, kay?” The baubles in Penelope's hair bounce from the force of her gesturing, and to Spencer’s relief he catches Emily smiling. “Alright, tell me all about your girl. She cute? Smart? She’s gotta be all that in order to be worthy of my Amazonian demigoddess here.”

“She’s a doctor," Emily says, "And yeah, she's pretty damn gorgeous. I met her at the coffee shop near the hospital, you know, the one I normally grab breakfast at before or after work, depending on the day."

“We gonna get a name any time soon?” Derek asks, and Emily shrugs.

“All depends how things go,” she says, “We’re actually gonna have our first real date next week, as long as neither of our work gets in the way.”

"First  _real_ date?" Derek immediately picks up on.

"We met up after a case last week, but it was more of a casual brunch thing than anything else."

"Well, good luck," JJ says, voice sincere, if a bit slurred by alcohol. "We'll be rooting for you."

"Just hope she can keep up with the crazy," Derek says.

"Don't worry," Emily says, a smug look in her eyes, "If we make it past date three, I'm pretty sure she'll be able to handle anything. An besides, she's an ER surgeon. She's used to hectic schedules and traumatic experiences."

Spencer nearly winces as the briefest of memories slithers across the back of his mind- the faintest of acrid smells, a whispered  _confess your sins,_  the distant pop of a gun going off.'Traumatic experiences' is somewhat of a nice way to phrase the kinds of scarring things they see in their job. "Well," he says, "If you end up in a long term relationship with this woman, then hopefully she can join us all for another game day, since Saturday went so well."

Emily gives Spencer a warm smile. "I did have lots of fun riling Morgan up last Saturday."

"I still can't believe we lost," Derek grumbles as he bites into another chip, and Spencer kisses him on the cheek.

"You're still going to root for them next week though, aren't you?" Spencer asks, because though Spencer doesn't understand sports, he does understand loyalty to something no matter the defeats suffered.

Derek nods. "And we  _will_ make it to the Superbowl this year."

"Fat chance," Emily scoffs. "Giants all the way."

"Over my dead body will the Giants win the Superbowl," Derek says, and though he may have been joking about the Bears making it he doesn't seem to be joking about the Giants losing. "Bet you 20 bucks that the Giants don't even make it to the Superbowl."

"Bet you 50 bucks they make it to the Superbowl, and if they win you have to wear pink to work the entire week after the Superbowl _and_ admitthat I'm better than you in front of the entire team."

"Deal," Derek immediately says, "And if they lose, you have to admit that I'm better than you and wear a dress to work for a week."

Emily smirks. "Deal."

They reach across the table to shake on it, and Spencer glances over to JJ. "Why do I feel like I just watched the Treaty of Versailles being signed?"

"Who's the loser?" JJ asks, gesturing between Derek and Emily.

"I think we all are, Nancy Drew," Penelope says, and Spencer can't help but agree.

"Well, I'm going to be looking forward to Feburary 3rd," Derek says. "Hopefully Prentiss' doctor will be there to see her defeat."

"Just you watch, Morgan," Emily says, "Because  _your_ doctor will definitely be there to see it."

Derek's 'game face' softens slightly as he glances at Spencer. "That he will, god willing."

"Of course I will," Spencer says, pressing a sweet kiss to Derek's lips even as he thinks of the millions of things that could go wrong between now and Feburary- Derek could break up with him, they could get seriously hurt or even die on a case. "I promise."

"Then it's settled," Emily says, gaze soft as she watches the two of them. She raises her glass to Derek, raising a challenging eyebrow. "You're on for Feburary 3rd."

Derek clings his glass against hers. "Feburary 3rd, Prentiss."

"You two are so overdramatic," Penelope sighs, flipping her hair dramatically, and they all laugh, breaking the tension caused by the bet.

"Pot meet kettle, Baby Girl," Derek says fondly.

Spencer smiles as he sets his book down and grabs for a chip. He loves his friends so much- he'd kill for an overabundance of days like this, casual and carefree. 

(He ignores the fact that he  _has,_ in fact, done this, instead just basking in the happy moment.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually googled who won the Superbowl in 2008 for this chapter. Be proud of me.
> 
>  
> 
> (Also, another chapter within a week! It's a holiday miracle! Please don't expect the next one this fast- the next one is maybe a third finished, and we'll be hunkering down for the long run on that one, sorry! Hope you enjoyed this one, though.)


End file.
